


Learning to Navigate

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-10
Updated: 2008-07-10
Packaged: 2019-05-15 04:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 50,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14783327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Josh and Donna learn to navigate their professional and personal relationship in the Santos administration.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

~DONNA’S POV~   
Inauguration Evening 

I can’t help but smile when the doorbell rings. One thing about traveling with the secret service, Josh is on time. 

I open the door and stand aside for the two agents to come in and sweep my apartment. 

Again. 

Josh is standing in the hallway with his hands in his pockets smiling. 

Damn he looks good in formal wear. 

“You like making this kind of entrance.” I say, casually leaning up against the doorframe and crossing my arms in front of my chest. 

“I wouldn’t have to make this kind of entrance if you lived with me.” He shoots back. Here we go again. 

“Josh.” I sigh dramatically. 

“I’m just saying.” 

“I see you didn’t leave me your bow tie.” I pout. 

“Carol did it.” he says with a flinch. 

“I have issues with that.” 

“It wasn’t as exciting, if that means anything.” 

“It does.” 

“You’re stunning.” 

I grin like an idiot. I can’t help it. He always told me when I looked nice, but it’s different now. It’s different because of what’s coming next. 

“All clear.” one agent says passing me by and returning to the hallway, immediately followed by the second one. 

Josh pounces on his cue. He steps forward, wraps his arms around my waist, attaches his lips to mine, turns us around a few times into my apartment, and kicks the door shut. 

Yeah, he can REALLY make an entrance sometimes. Even though I’ve ALWAYS noticed when he entered a room. 

“Don’t mess up my hair.” I order against his lips. 

“I know.” he says in between kisses. He’s moved us back up against my door now. Sometimes I really wonder what the secret service thinks. I’ve seen these two guys before. One guy was on Liz Bartlet’s detail and one was on Ellie’s. But being as how I could count on one hand how many times I’d actually seen Liz and Ellie in the White House in the seven years that I worked there, I never learned their names. I should talk to Ron Butterfield and find out what their names are. I hate that I don’t know them yet. I’d ask them, but it kind of seems a little inconsiderate to say, “I know you’re going to take a bullet for my boyfriend, what’s your name again?” 

Josh moves from my lips to my neck, then my collarbone. He’s fascinated by this part of my body. I’m okay with that. Actually, he’s fascinated by my ENTIRE body. And I’m REALLY okay with that. I think it’s because it was forbidden to him for so long. It really wasn’t, but you know what I mean. 

He breaks the kiss and gently leans his forehead against mine. His eyes were closed for a second before he opens them. 

“I can see right down your dress!” 

“Well, from that angle, yeah.” I roll my eyes. 

He takes a step back and looks at me more closely. “From this angle, too.” 

“You said I looked stunning.” 

“You do.” he nods. “But it’s now occurring to me that other men are going to find you stunning, too.” 

“This is a bad thing?” 

He glares at me. 

“Well, it’s not like I care!” 

“Really?” he asks. No, he wasn’t being sarcastic. Josh still has a hard time believing this us thing is really happening, despite our incredible Hawaiian, mostly naked, vacation. I can’t say I blame him. This time last year, I was starting to think we were beyond repair. It was painful just to smile at him when I saw him, let alone actually say something cordial. When I left the White House, it actually FELT like we broke up. It was incredibly painful and I cried for days. On the one hand, I was totally energized about my new job; on the other, I was completely devastated about being separated from him. I thought he’d come after me, put up some kind of fight. But he just let me go, and I got pretty pissed, quite frankly. 

“Of course.” I smile lightly, running my fingers behind his ear, which I know makes him nuts, but trust me, it’s the good kind of nuts. 

“You should wear earrings tonight, and a necklace, too.” he says. 

“You’re the one that gets all ticked off when I do that. You say you don’t like the taste of metal in your mouth.” 

“I don’t.” 

Sometimes it occurs to me that I should be a little more feminist about that. I should probably put him in his place and tell him I’ll dress how I want and wear whatever jewelry I see fit, as I see fit. But the truth is, I like that he wants to kiss me whenever he wants. I feel the same way. We have a lot to make up for. 

“Then why do you want me to wear them?” I’m not going to make it easy for him after all. I mean, why start now? 

“Donna, when you wear jewelry, it draws attention to your face.” he says with a small smile. 

Awww... 

“Then men aren’t looking at your chest as much.” 

Sigh. 

“I don’t think too many men are going to be looking at my chest in the presence of the President and First Lady.” 

“You won’t be by them all night.” 

“But I’ll be by you all night.” 

“Yes,” he smirks, pulling me back into his arms. “you will.” 

“You’re incorrigible.” 

“You love it.” 

I do. 

*********************************

~JOSH’S POV~ 

“Please tell me you’re coming home with me tonight.” I shamelessly beg. I can’t help it. Her dress is all navy blue, and satiny, and sexy as hell. Her hair is up, showing off this amazing neck I can’t seem to get my lips off of. 

“Mmm-hmm.” she says, tipping her head back. 

“And staying?” 

“Well, I’ll have to leave at some point, Josh, we have to work in the morning.” 

“No. And stay forever.” 

“Josh.” she sighs. 

Is it so freaking hard for her to understand that I want to actually live with her? 

“This is still so new.” she says waving a hand in between us. “We’re still trying to figure out the boundaries.” 

“You have no boundaries with me, Donna.” I immediately argue. “You never have.” 

I swear to God, I will convince this woman to move in with me. 

“Josh.” she says a little more lighter again. I hate this particular tone of her voice. It’s usually accompanied by her you’re-so-sweet face. But I don’t want to be sweet. I want to be her fiancé. I haven’t let her in on that part yet. “You say that now, but --” 

“But nothing. You’re the only woman in my adult life I’ve voluntarily allowed to have any control over me at all. And you’ve got a lot, and you know it.” 

She takes a step back from me, and I take a step back from her. We’re going to fight now. That’s all right. Because when I win the fight, she’ll move in with me. Besides, I’m ready for her arguments. 

“And you think you’ve completely stopped seeing me as someone who works for you.” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. 

THAT’S the best she can do here? This’ll be cake! 

“Donna, I stopped seeing you as someone who worked for me a long time ago. You stopped being ‘my assistant’ and became the woman in my life.” 

“You really want to do this now? When we’re walking out the door going to eight balls? You want to get into this?” 

This is her trying to get me to cave, but I’m not going to because she’s trying to weasel her way out of it. 

“Yes, I do.” I say. “Because you and I made a promise to each other in Hawaii that we’d talk about stuff when it came up and not ignore it and let it fester. I’m holding up my end of the deal.” 

I’ve got her cornered now. See that? I don’t like being crafty with her, but sometimes I have to be. 

“Just because YOU’RE ready, Josh, doesn’t mean I am.” 

Okay. I wasn’t really expecting her to say that. But that’s okay. I can deal with this. I hope... 

“Why aren’t you ready?” 

“What?” 

“What makes you think you’re not ready?” I’ll yank it out of her if I have to. If it’s this hard to get her say it, I guarantee I’m not going to like what she has to say, but if she’s thinking it, I want to know it. “You love me, right?” 

“Of course I love you!” 

“Then what’s the problem?” 

“Josh, I’ve loved you a long time. I’ve told you that.” she says. She did. She’s loved me since Rosslyn. I knew she did then, too. That’s when all the denial and misdirection started. “Things have been so blurry between us for years. “I did way more for you than any other assistant did for their boss. I worked hours Ginger, Bonny, and Kathy were horrified at. Did I do these things because I was more dedicated to my job than they were and I was your assistant, or did I do them for you because I loved you?” 

I blow out a breath and roll my eyes. I can’t figure out this whole finding herself thing. She’s already done that. She reinvented herself years ago and it was amazing to witness. I don’t know what this stuff is. 

“You said it yourself just now.” she says changing her tone to the don’t-roll-your-eyes-at-me one. “I stopped being your assistant years ago and became the woman in your life. Things were just as blurry for you as they were for me. We hurt each other professionally, Josh. And since we had such strong feelings for each other, we couldn’t help but take it personally. It shouldn’t have been that way.” 

“I thought we were past all this.” I sigh frustrated. 

“We are.” she says adamantly, walking back to me. She stands directly in front of me. One thing that’s never been an issue for us is personal space. For some reason, neither of us have ever had a problem with the other invading our personal space. “We’ll get there, Josh.” 

“When? In another eight years?” This is me being childish. I’m upset because I’ve temporarily lost the battle. BUT it should be noted, it doesn’t sound like I’ve lost the war! 

“You mean everything to me, Josh.” she whispers. “I don’t want to lose you because we were stupid. I’m not strong enough for that.” 

“You’re strong enough for anything.” I whisper back. 

She doesn’t seem to think so. 

TBC


	2. Learning to Navigate

~DONNA’S POV~ 

There’s a TON of pictures being taken of me and Josh. Carol tells me we’re quite the buzz. This is the first time the Washington political society as seen us “together.” There’s more than one “I knew it” smirk, which is pissing me off. I want to grab that microphone out of Bono’s hand up there and say, “You didn’t know shit, people!” But obviously I can’t. Can you imagine though if I did? 

Any time someone stops us to talk to us about something, Josh snakes his arm around my waist and his hand lands pretty damn low. Again, I’m thinking I should be offended by this. 

CJ would say I’m not his trophy to show off, but I’m tired of going by what CJ would be offended by. I used to see her as a role model, someone I looked up to. Not anymore. I was so influenced by the things CJ said to me that night years ago, when we were locked in her office together and she said all those humiliating things, that I left my job to reinvent myself. 

The problem was, I reinvented myself into the image that she portrayed: sophisticated, independent from a man, driven by my job. 

I was miserable. 

I felt that part of my body had been amputated when I left Josh. I even had those phantom pains that it’s said people who have had amputations have. Only with mine, I’d turn to say something to him and he wouldn’t be there. Or I’d pick up the phone to tell him something exciting and remember we weren’t speaking, and all the pain would come back. Phantom heartache...do you think there’s such a thing? 

All I wanted to do was show CJ and Josh I was worth something; I was a voice worth listening to. And for some reason, I didn’t notice that Josh already knew that. I used to think that Josh never listened to what I said, but he ALWAYS did. Looking back, when he was drifting with an issue, he’d hang on my every word and inevitably, something I said sparked something in his brain. 

But at that time, all I could see was what I was doing for him. I was blinded by everything I had to do for him, that I couldn’t see beyond it to what he actually was doing for me. 

It wasn’t until I left him that I saw the freedom he actually DID give me in my job and everything he had taught me. Ginger, Bonny, Carol, Kathy, all senior assistants to the senior staff, all did scheduling, typing, transcribing, answering phones. As Josh’s senior assistant, I actually *assisted* him. I did research, briefed him on many, many, many issues, assisted him in vetting processes, breaking down polling data, handled the President’s weekly radio address, had congressmen and senator’s voting records at my fingertips, helped him double team straying democrats and lasso leaning republicans. I was his sounding board on everything and helped him draft legislation. Yeah, I answered phones, handled scheduling and typed. That too was my job. But he did push the scope of the assistant’s position to it’s boundaries for me. None of the other assistants made foreign trips, much less independent from their boss. 

Yes. He was...IS high maintenance. Yes. I like that he needs me, and I’m sorry that it took me leaving him for him to see that he needed me as a person. But it took me leaving him to see that I needed him, too. Not just to fix it when I screwed up, but to look at me every day the way he did when I woke up in Germany. Before that night, the only other time I’d seen that look was Inauguration Night. Now, I see it every day. 

I DO want to live with him. We practically live together now. But we’ve hurt each other and I’m afraid that he’s trying to make up for it by plowing ahead. This is a new us. He says he thinks of me as the woman in his life. Maybe. But I need him to treat me that way. I need him to react to me that way. This isn’t easy for me either. Josh was my boss, then he was my best friend, then he was the man I was in love with but couldn’t have. Now he’s my boyfriend. I do my best to treat him like that, to be considerate of his feelings and understanding about his job. To be the person I always was for him, minus the things that I did because I was paid to. Sorting that stuff out is hard. 

He squeezes my waist lightly. This is in response to the fact that my arm has snaked inside his tux jacket, and this guy he’s talking to can’t see it, but my fingers have dipped into his waistband. 

he...he...he...This is fun! 

What? Excuse me for wanting to show off the fact that I’m on the arm of Washington’s current star and one of DC’s ten most eligible bachelors. Oh, you didn’t know that, did you? People Magazine is doing a political special edition showcasing famous faces in politics and my man here is being named one of DC’s most eligible bachelors. Don’t think when I heard that I didn’t want to haul his ass before a justice of the peace and take him right off that list either. Not that I’m too concerned about him going anywhere. You heard the argument about co-habitation. 

He excused us from the Senator and leads me to the dance floor. I move into his arms and he pulls me close. 

Real close. 

“This is our first dance together.” he says softly with a smile. 

“We’ve danced a hundred times, Joshua.” I smile back. 

“Not like this.” 

He emphasizes his point by subtly sliding his fingers into the back of my dress. They’re resting just above the back of my pelvis and he starts to lightly rub them back and forth. 

“No. I can’t say you’ve ever done that before.” 

He responds by kissing me lightly. There is, of course, a flashbulb. “I’ve never done that before either.” 

“Someone just took a picture of us.” I note. 

“Yeah.” he shrugs. 

“It’s probably going to be printed somewhere, Josh.” 

“Does that bother you?” 

“I don’t know.” I say honestly. “I guess not.” 

“Donna, you’re a visible woman in this town now.” he says. “You’re going to get your picture taken. I’m a visible man; I’m going to get my picture taken. Often, it’s going to be together.” 

“I know.” I sigh. 

It’s not that I don’t want people seeing me kiss Josh. I want every woman in Washington to see him with me. I want them all to see him be that way with me. But it’s different when it’s printed in the newspaper or a magazine. I don’t want anyone questioning why I have my job. Mrs. Santos offered me the job completely without Josh’s knowledge. I befriended her on the campaign trail all on my own. Josh didn’t assign me to her. But you take that picture and run it with an article containing my resume, it creates an image nobody needs. It’s hard enough for the First Lady to be taken seriously without the President, I don’t need for it to look like I got the job because I’m Josh’s girlfriend on top of that. 

But this was our fear when we worked for President Bartlet; the things people would say. Well, we didn’t know until recently that we both had the same fear, but we did. And now it’s still hanging out there. 

“What’s the matter?” he asks. 

“Nothing.” I say shaking my head. 

“Donna, please let’s not go through all this.” He says with a sigh. “You’re going to say nothing, and I’m going to say something, and you’re going to say nothing, and I’m going to say I can tell something’s wrong, and eventually, you’re going to tell me anyway. So, can we skip all that please?” 

Well, that was enlightening. 

“I don’t want people to say I got my job because I was sleeping with you.” I blurt. 

He looks....a little annoyed. 

“You were offered this job in November.” he says. 

“I know.” 

“We talked about it extensively in Hawaii.” 

“I know.” 

“You didn’t mention a WORD about this. You were afraid you didn’t have the experience; I told you you were perfect for the job. We weighed all the pros and cons, and this never came up as a con.” he lists. 

“I know.” I nod again. 

“I don’t understand why it’s coming up now.” 

“I guess I didn’t really think about it until people started taking our picture tonight and whispering about us. We came back from Hawaii and I just got to work.” 

“No one’s going to say that.” 

“People ARE going to say that, Josh.” 

“They’ll be sorry if they do.” 

“Josh.” I sigh. 

“They’ll be sorry, Donna.” he says more adamantly. “I spent years denying what I felt because I was afraid of what they’d say about you. Years of not being able to look too long at you, or kiss you, or tell you how I feel because I was worried about what people in this town thought. Nothing happened between us before. It’s not inappropriate now, and now I’M the one calling the shots and I’ll be God damned if I let that disgusting idea fester and take hold. I will fire people, I will deny media agencies credentials, I will alienate congressmen and I don’t care who it is or what we need them for. The first person who says something like that is the one that gets made an example of.” 

“You and I both know you can’t do that.” I smile sadly. I mean, it’s a nice thought. 

“Watch me.” 

He’s so definitive in those two words that I actually believe him and it makes me shiver. I drop my head onto his shoulder and he buries his face in my neck. He’s grown so much since the day we met almost nine years ago. But the one thing he never grew out of was how impulsive he was. He WILL do something like that, and it just might cost him his job. 

“I’ve never done THIS before when we’ve danced either.” I say softly moving the conversation away from an argument neither of us will win. 

“I like when you do this.” 

Can I handle this man or what? 

The song ends and he pulls back to look at me. “Time to get back to work.” he says. 

One day, I’ll dance with him all night and no one will interrupt us. No one will want just a few minutes of his time. I’ll spend the whole night dancing in his arms. 

I nod in agreement and we turn to leave the dance floor. We were along the edge of it anyway. He takes a few steps and stops abruptly. I can feel him tense up next to me. I follow his gaze and my jaw drops. 

We’re standing face to face with Jack Reese. 

TBC


	3. Learning to Navigate

JOSH’S POV 

You have GOT to be freaking kidding me! This guy? THIS guy! Commander Wonderful? Commander I’m-too-sexy-for-my-dress-saber. Commander-throw-my-girlfriend-to-the-wolves-right-before-I-get-sent-to-the-other-side-of-the-planet? Commander-say-something-shitty-and-run? You understand I could go on here. I could stand here all night and think nasty thoughts about this guy. 

Of all the people I thought I might bump into tonight, Jack Reese has got to be one of the last I expected. 

I slide a glance over to Donna. Her eyes are widened. I’m relieved to see she looks as stunned as I am. And now I’m kicking myself that there was some hidden part of my brain that thought she might have known he was here and hiding it from me. Donna would never do something like that to me. But for that nanosecond, I thought she did and now I feel like an asshole. 

When will I stop having these persistent feelings she’s going to hightail it again? And when will I stop doubting the one constant in my life? The one person that loves me for me and not what I can give them. 

“Jack.” she says, her tone showing her surprise. She squeezes my hand. 

“Donna! You look amazing!” he greets. That’s my fucking line, sailor! He leans in and gives her a quick kiss on the cheek, which she doesn’t return. At least, it didn’t look like she did. 

“Thanks.” she smiles cordially. 

“Josh!” Sam says cutting into the conversation out of nowhere. “Barry Goodwin is looking for you. Donna,” he says turning to her with a bright Sam grin, “may I have this dance?” 

“Of course.” she smiles softly, and I’m almost inclined to deny him and drag her back out onto the floor. But THIS, ladies and gentlemen, is why Sam is my best friend. He just busted up an incredibly awkward situation. 

“Jack.” I nod politely and walk away, presumably to find Barry Goodwin, who I’m pretty sure isn’t at this ball, but Popeye doesn’t know that. He’s a republican; I’m sure he doesn’t know who Barry Goodwin is. Quite frankly, I wish *I* didn’t know who Barry Goodwin was. 

I do a loop around the room and end up by the bar. How I got around the room unscathed, I’m not quite sure. I order a Scotch on the rocks. This just turned into a Scotch night. 

I can see Donna and Sam dancing, but I don’t see Jack anywhere. It looks like I’ll be doing some checking up tomorrow morning. It’s been four years to the day that we last saw him. If I remember right, he was sent to Italy. That would have been probably a two year assignment, so he probably got sent somewhere else for two years after that. Special assignment to the Klondike, I hope. From what I’ve learned since then, Italy’s not a wildly popular assignment for the Navy. I don’t know if it’s boring or what the deal is, but apparently, Jack got not only a slap on the wrist for whatever it is he did, but an extra screw you, too. 

Donna was convinced at the time that someone was putting the screws to him. One of the reasons I don’t like Jack is that he was telling her stuff he shouldn’t have to impress her. Right there tells you he wasn’t right for her. Donna can keep a secret. And Donna’s not impressed by people in the know, nor does she normally have a desire to have to KNOW what’s going on, unless it seems to be affecting me more than normal, then she just wants to know if it’s really bad. Each time he did that though, he put her job in jeopardy. Not from me, but if people higher than me had found out, she would have been fired. We’re talking military and state secrets here. Obviously they can’t have someone hanging around that’s tempting someone from the National Security Advisor’s Office to share top secret information. Even though I know she wasn’t like that, since I know WAY more than Jack did and she never tried to get something out of me. 

Anyway, she said Jack followed an order given to him by President Bartlet but got in trouble for it anyway. This makes no sense to me. How could he get in trouble for following an order given to him directly by the Commander in Chief? The only thing I can think of is the Secretary of Defense and probably a few joint chiefs, if not all of them, were left out of the loop on something and got pissed about it. Since they couldn’t really do anything to President Bartlet for it, they screwed Jack instead. 

I watch her on the dance floor from my secluded spot by the bar. We don’t have much longer at this ball. And it’s even less time now that I know Commander Wonderful is here. I’ll have to move the President on soon, but I love watching her. Sam says something to her that makes her throw her head back and laugh. It makes me smile. I love her smile. I love her laugh. 

What I don’t love is that my chest constricts when she says we’re not ready to live together. I don’t love that I get these anxious butterflies in my stomach when she says anything that I can twist in my paranoid mind to a suggestion that she might leave me again. I can’t take that. After everything we’ve been through, I can’t not be with her. Last year sucked without her. I was miserable. 

We’ve known each other for Nine. Years. 

Nine. Years. 

Nine years of flirting, nine years of innuendos, nine years of falling asleep on each other’s shoulders, nine years of formal dances where we couldn’t touch each other like we did tonight, nine years of her rendering me speechless showing her delicious alabaster skin in formal dresses. Six years of wanting to hug her tightly when I heard gunshots, six years of knowing she’d commit traffic violations to get to me if I were in an accident, six years of anxious anticipation on my part to see if she’d wear a certain red dress when she said she had a date, six years of knowing she committed perjury before Congress to protect me, three years of knowing she was SIXTEEN when she lost her virginity to some weasel named Freddy, two years of hearing “You’re still here” in my mind right before I fall asleep at night. 

We’re not ready to live together? We’re not ready to share every part of our lives together? What the hell have I been doing for nine years? 

I watch the scene unfold before me in horror. Commander Reese with his handsome dress uniform with 13 buttons on the pants, with his warfare pin, submarine officer pin, two commendation metals, meritorious unit, Purple freaking Heart, Bronze Cross and God damn saber just cut in on them and has his arms around my girlfriend. 

I order another drink. 

This is definitely a Scotch night. 

***************************

DONNA’S POV 

Come save me, Josh. 

Come save me, Josh. 

Come save me, Josh. 

Where the hell IS he? How can his somebody’s-touching-Donna radar be failing him right now? I glance to the receiving line, he’s not stuck with the President. I glance around the periphery of the dance floor. I don’t see him. Where.... 

Wait a minute. 

I see him at the bar throwing back a drink. 

Lovely. He’s getting drunk. 

“You really look wonderful, Donna.” Jack smiles at me. His eyes aren’t as brown as Josh’s. 

“Thank you.” I smile back. “It’s nice to see you. How long have you been back?” 

“Barely a week. I’ve been transferred again.” 

“Bethesda?” I ask as innocently as I can. 

Please say Bethesda, please say Bethesda, please say Bethesda. 

“Dr. Tressler’s office.” he replies. 

“National Security again?” I say, my eyebrows shooting up my forehead. 

“Yup. Back to the White House basement.” 

I guess the changing of the guard brings...well...changes. 

“Well, good for you. I know you really enjoyed that.” 

This is a nightmare. Well, if I have to play nice with Josh’s ex-witch, I guess it’s only fair he has to play nice with my ex-boyfriend. 

“And congratulations to you.” He says. “First Lady’s Chief of Staff. You’ve been productive the last four years.” 

“Yup. Climbed right up that ladder.” 

Josh! Stop freaking drinking and save me! 

“I’m surprised Josh let you go.” He mumbles. Well, that didn’t take long. Jack wasn’t one to take my unconventional work hours well. 

“He didn’t have much choice in the matter. I quit on him one day.” I reply. Now his eyebrows shoot up. 

“Really?” he looks genuinely interested. 

“I went to work for Vice President Russell’s campaign.” I reply. 

“Listen,” he says after a moment. “I’m sorry I didn’t try to keep in touch after I got transferred. I didn’t think you’d want to talk to me anymore.” 

“We had a good relationship, Jack. Why wouldn’t I have wanted to talk to you again?” I reply. I mean, I didn’t see me getting a lot of time off to visit him in Italy, but some emails would have been nice. He’s a Navy commander for crying out loud. What girl would have wanted to throw that away? 

“I also thought it would have been better for you professionally if I kept my distance.” he says more quietly. 

Okay. Well, that’s twisted, but I suppose that’s kind of sweet. 

“Donna.” Josh says FINALLY appearing at my side. “We’re leaving.” 

I step away from Jack and feel Josh’s hand on my lower back. Jack’s gaze has now traveled from the top of my head, slowly down my body to my feet and back up to my eyes again. You know the look, girls. They’re undressing you with their eyes. And this guy knows what’s underneath. I hope Josh didn’t see that look. 

“It was good to see you again, Donna.” Jack smiles. 

“Thanks. Um...you, too.” I say and let Josh lead me very quickly away. 

TBC


	4. Learning to Navigate

JOSH’S POV 

Okay, so I’m an idiot. I actually thought with Donna all this would be easy. WHY I thought that when NOTHING with me and Donna has ever been easy, especially this, I have no idea. When we finally got each other into bed, I just thought, well, that’s the big hurdle, it’s smooth sailing from here. 

Apparently not. 

I mean, we decided we were worth it. Quite frankly, I can’t believe she handed me that crap to begin with. I’m pretty sure she was scared; scared of finding out that we really were just heightened emotional circumstances and nine years of sexual tension, and scared of finding out that I didn’t want to get into a relationship now, at this point of my career. But I didn’t want to be CJ and Leo. I didn’t want to be this person who had nothing around them at retirement. I DO want a life outside my job, and I want it with her. I told her all of this in Hawaii. It was pretty emotional. I don’t know why she’s hiding. 

We’re on our way back to my place now. The balls are over. We didn’t see Jack again tonight, but the damage to the evening had been done, and now I’m trying to figure out how to get it back on track. 

“Donna, you’re not interested in dating anyone else, are you?” That’s probably not the best way to go about it. 

She looks at me. She looks astonished. 

Thank God. 

“This is about Jack.” she concludes. 

“Not entirely.” I say. I mean, I’ll just send him to the Yukon if I think he’s really a threat 

“Josh,”she says turning to me in the back seat of the car. “Me wanting to wait to move in together has nothing to do with being interested in dating anyone else, which I’m absolutely not interested in. You’re the only person I want to be with. You have to get past this fear that I’m going to leave you.” 

I don’t think it’s an irrational fear. She HAS done it twice before after all. The second time really hurt, too. I don’t want a knock down drag out fight that ends with her going back to her place tonight though, so I keep that to myself. I settle for dropping my head back against the seat and exhaling a long breath. 

“Did you not hear anything I said to you before we left tonight?” she asks. 

“Yes.” I say looking up at the roof of the car. 

“Did it register?” 

“Yes.” 

“What else do you want me to do?” 

Marry me. 

“Work out whatever issues you have.” I say instead. 

“Whatever issues WE have, Josh.” She counters. “You’re afraid of me leaving you.” 

“I wouldn’t be if you made a bigger commitment.” 

She says something that I completely can’t understand. It didn’t sound like English. I know I had a few drinks, but that wasn’t something I can recognize. 

“What the hell was that?” 

“I love you in Greek.” she smirks. 

“How do you know how to say that?” 

“I know stuff.” she shrugs. She freaks me out when she comes out with stuff like that. Where the hell would she have learned to say that in Greek? She and President Bartlet, they’re geeky like that. 

I start to laugh, but it dies in my throat when she launches herself at my face. I, of course, am an instant willing participant. Donna’s hot as hell. I’ll kiss her whenever she wants. She throws her leg over me and moves to my lap. She’s had a few drinks herself tonight. Otherwise the thought of my two shadows in the front seat would totally freak her out. 

We pull up to my building just in time. I’m getting pretty heated here. The car door opens and whoosh of cold air blows in. Well, that’ll kill the heat. 

She slides off my lap and we get out of the car, moving VERY quickly up the stairs to my apartment. 

I think the night is going to end just fine. 

***************************

~DONNA’S POV~ 

I throw my head back and moan as he kisses my neck. I was never really a noise maker before Josh. It doesn’t surprise me. He makes nerve endings come alive in me that I didn’t know existed. 

We’re up against the door and there’s a growing pile of clothes at our feet. Most are his, but my dress is unzipped and hanging off my shoulders which he’s currently massaging enticingly. I’ve fantasized about being with him and in none of the fantasies has he made me feel as amazing as he does in real life. 

How in the universe could I want anybody else? 

I do want to be with him forever. I don’t think I know how to be with anyone else, but some wounds are still fresh. Some wounds, it turns out, got reopened tonight, thank you, Jack Reese. 

My dress glides down my body and I step gingerly out of it. I never would have thought that a $1600 dress would end up crumbled on the floor, but there it is and I still kick it to the side. Hope it doesn’t do too much damage. 

He gently tugs my hands and I follow him, our lips still connected. I thought he was going to lead us to the bedroom, but we tumble onto the couch instead. The couch I want to replace because it’s ugly. 

He perches above me and kisses down my neck to my breasts, causing me to sigh. I feel the vibrations of a soft giggle against my skin. “I love when you do that.” he whispers and I smile. 

“Well, I love having you kiss me like this.” I reply. I must have said something he likes because he moves up to kiss my lips. It’s long and lazy and passionate. When he pulls away, I must admit, I’m a little breathless. When I look at him, I expect to see a smirk and am surprised when it’s not there. What I DO see is uncertainty. Jack has unnerved him tonight. Couple that with me saying I want to wait until we feel more ready to move in, and no wonder he hit the bottle. 

“I’ve loved you for so long.” I say softly trailing a finger down his cheek and his smile goes right to his eyes. 

“Me too.” he nods. 

*****************************

JOSH’S POV 

I’m not a religious man. I grew up going to Temple with my parents, but I seemed to have lost my way after I left for college. Quite frankly, I haven’t tried to find Him again since. Toby is a religious man; President Bartlet is a religious man. Me? Not so much. Not even when I was lying bleeding on the pavement at the Newseum. I lived by the grace of science. 

But when I’m with Donna like this, He must be out there somewhere, and I must have done something great to finally have her as my reward. She sighs with pleasure and moans with passion as I slowly glide into her. My love, my strength, my weakness, my passion. 

She moves beneath me and she’s all beauty and grace. 

And hotness, of course. Donna can bring the hot. 

I collapse on top of her when we finally lose ourselves in one another. The connection I feel with her is electric. I lay against her shoulder and she runs her fingers through my hair. This day has been endless, but she soothes it away as only she can. Tomorrow starts...well, a rather stressful time in my life, I’m sure. 

But I’m ready for it. So many people have brought me to this point. My mother, my father, Leo, President Bartlet. And Donna. Leo has groomed me politically. There is no doubt about that. 

Donna...Donna has changed me as a person. She’s made me better, she’s kept me as honest as anyone can keep a person, and because of her, I never gave up. 

She pulls a blanket off the back of the couch and covers us in it. I doubt we’ll spend the rest of the night here, but neither of us seems inclined to move. 

As I drift off to sleep in her arms, I hear her whisper, “I love you, Joshua.” And with those words as my evening lullaby, I finally fall into unconsciousness. 

TBC


	5. Learning to Navigate

JOSH’S POV 

Carol buzzes in to tell me Jack’s here. Great. I’m sure it’s a legitimate reason. I can’t imagine he’d want to see me any more than I want to see him, but...great. 

“Who’s Jack Reese?” Amy asks perching herself on the corner of my desk. 

“Tressler’s deputy.” I say not looking up from what I’m reading, mainly because I don’t want anyone seeing the reaction I’m having to Jack Reese working in this building. “Get off my desk.” 

“Why?” she asks. 

“Because this is the White House, not a piano bar.” I shoot back. 

“Oh-kay.” she says slowly standing up. “Where do I know him from?” 

“He dated Donna a few years ago.” 

“Ah-ha!” she grins like a Cheshire Cat. “No wonder you hate him.” 

“I don’t hate him for dating Donna.” OF COURSE I hate him for dating Donna though. 

“Keep telling yourself that, J.” she says with an eye roll. 

“Well, he’s here to see me now, so maybe you could...” 

“Sit on the couch and watch the show?” She smiles. 

“He’s from the NSA, Amy. I cannot think of any situation where I’d let you witness a conversation between the Chief of Staff and anyone from the NSA.” 

“You’re no fun anymore, J. I guess that means, you’re not interested in lunch today.” She says. Well, that’s a big 10-4. 

“No.” I say simply. 

She turns to walk out the door leading to the corridor as Jack walks in. He looks over at her and she smiles back. “Commander.” She smiles coyly. I’m not sure if that was supposed to be for me or herself there. 

“I see you got a new Donna.” Jack says motioning over his shoulder towards Carol’s door as he walks in my office. He doesn’t seem to be off to a good start there. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Donna.” he repeats. “She doesn’t work for you anymore.” Like I’m not aware of that? 

“She hasn’t for a couple years now.” Thanks for pounding salt in the open wound there, buddy. 

“Oh really?” 

“How could you not know that?” 

“I just got back from Italy.” 

“I didn’t send you to Italy, Jack.” he says with a bit of an edge to his tone. Turns out, he WAS in Italy all that time. He did get the fuzzy end of the lollipop in the end. 

“No, of course not; the secretary of defense did.” 

“I don’t know anything about any of that.” 

“Oh no?” 

Fine. I tried to be nice. 

“Well, yes, I do. I know you let her take the fall for a quote she didn’t give while you got the hell out of Dodge.” 

Take that, Commander. 

“She did that all on her own.” 

“I don’t recall you calling The Washington Post to correct it, Jack.” I say. “It almost got her fired.” 

“Please.” he scoffs with a wave of his hand. “By who? You? You never would have fired her, and you would have thrown yourself in front of Leo McGarry if he tried to do it. Why didn’t I correct The Washington Post? Why didn’t I call the Chief of Staff and correct his misconception that it was her? Because I was tired of playing second fiddle to you. Donna’s a nice girl, but her devotion to you got old quick. She was five hours late to the Washington Inn on Christmas Eve because she was with you.” 

“Working.” 

“Yeah. ALWAYS working.” 

“It’s the White House, Jack. It doesn’t close on Christmas Eve.” 

“What does an *assistant* need to be doing at any job at 10:30 at night on Christmas Eve? What was there that had to be done that was so important that SHE had to do it, Josh? Then she called you Christmas morning.” 

Yes, she did. She called me early Christmas morning. But it wasn’t to wish me a merry Christmas like he probably thinks it was; it was because two Christmases before I spent the day with Stanley Keyworth and the evening in the ER with her, and she was calling to make sure I was all right. We have a history that this doofus here can’t possibly comprehend. I’d explain it to him...if I gave a shit about what he thought. 

“She was so fucking starry-eyed over you --” 

“This is the White House, Jack!” I interrupt. “You’re standing 20 feet from the Commander in Chief right now. I’m the Chief of Staff, you’re Dr. Tressler’s deputy, and you’ll show some respect while standing right next to the Oval Office, or you’ll be pulling all night guard duty in Guam. The National Security Advisor and the Secretary of Defense work for me.” 

He looks quite pissed off right now. I know it’s bad form to threaten a naval officer, but I will not tolerate that in this building. Leo wouldn’t and didn’t, and I won’t either. And the President, forget about it. He *definitely* won’t tolerate it. 

I drop my voice significantly for the next part. “And if I ever hear you talk about Donna like that again, your next assignment will be Captain of the Spirit of Baltimore.” 

“You’re threatening me?” 

“No. I’m letting you know how things are going to be. She cared about you Jack, and she fell on the sword for you and you didn’t recognize the gesture. She was willing to sacrifice her career, her credibility in this town and in the eyes of the President, and her friendship with me for you. You left for Italy and never contacted her again. You had your girl in port and then dumped her when she wasn’t any use to you anymore. And if there’s one thing you should have learned while you worked here before, it’s that nobody treats her like that and gets away with it. So I’m telling you now, you stay WAY the hell away from her.” 

Jack’s not given a chance to respond because Carol opens the door. “You’re needed in the Oval.” she says quietly. I’m pretty sure she heard all that. Thank God Carol is a little more discreet than Margaret was. 

“Thank you, Carol.” I say pulling my jacket off my chair and over my shoulders. “Commander.” I nod once to Jack and leave my office through the connecting door to the Oval. 

Well, that didn’t go well at all. And I still don’t know what he came to actually talk about. 

**********************

DONNA’S POV 

“Your boyfriend doesn’t like me.” Says a voice from my office doorway. I’m momentarily startled by the interruption and look up to see Jack standing there, leaning against the doorframe. I guess my assistant stepped away from her desk. 

“It’s not that he doesn’t like you,” I begin. “It’s...” 

“That he doesn’t like me.” he finishes. 

“Josh doesn’t like any man from my past.” 

“What about women from his past? Do you threaten them?” 

“Well, all the women in his past are shrews.” I reply. Wait a minute? “What do you mean do I threaten them?” 

“I’ve been ordered by the Chief of Staff to stay way the hell away from you, and if I didn’t, my next assignment would be Captain of the Spirit of Baltimore.” 

“What the hell is the Spirit of Baltimore?” I ask. 

“It’s a dinner cruiseline.” he says dryly and I successfully stifle a laugh. Jack sailing a dinner cruiseship is pretty funny. Okay. Well it’s funny to me. 

“Why would Josh threaten you?” I ask. I’m curious about this and what lead to this alleged threat. 

“I don’t know.” he shrugs. “I went in to talk to him about something and he ended up getting pretty heated.” 

“Well, what did you say?” 

“Nothing really.” 

Something doesn’t feel right here. I hate to call a Naval Officer a liar, but something just feels off. When Josh gets heated, he definitely speaks before he thinks, but threatens? I don’t understand. 

“Okay. Well, if you’re ordered to stay away from me, why are you here?” 

“Well, I don’t take orders from the Chief of Staff.” He says pushing off the doorframe and walking into my office. 

“Not as a member of the U.S. Navy, maybe not, though he does have a general’s diplomatic ranking, but as a member of the National Security Advisor’s staff, yeah, you do.” 

“It’s a bogus order.” 

“Since when do military officers get to determine what’s a bogus order and what’s not?” 

“Are you uncomfortable with me here?” he asks suddenly. 

“No.” I say quickly. Kind of. “Why would you think that?” 

“I came to ask you to lunch.” 

“I can’t do that.” I say immediately. 

“Why? Do you not eat lunch?” 

“Of course I eat lunch. But if Josh has ordered you to stay away from me, I don’t think that would be very respectful of me to just disregard a wish of his.” 

“You’re not furious that he’s trying to dictate who you can and can’t speak to?” he asks. “You don’t find that a little controlling?” Well, Josh has ALWAYS done that. But oddly enough, I don’t find it infuriating, but I do find it curious. I’m obviously only getting one side of the story here. 

“I’m sorry, Jack. I can’t do lunch today. I’ve got a meeting.” 

“Can’t or won’t?” 

I’m saved from answering that question when my assistant buzzes through with a phone call for me and Jack leaves the office. “Nora,” I say to my assistant before I take the call and after Jack leaves. “Call over to Josh’s office and tell Carol I need to come over to see him as soon as possible.” 

I pick up the phone and it’s a researcher from People looking for comments on the write up about Josh and I direct them back to my assistant to schedule something. I drum my fingertips on my desk and wait for Nora to tell me when I can go see Josh. 

*****************************

JOSH’S POV 

“You made an appointment?” I demand as soon as Donna enters my office. 

“Well...yeah.” she says dropping down onto the couch. 

“What the hell?” 

“I needed to talk to you.” 

“It says right on my schedule,” I say holding up the piece of paper for her to see. “11:45, Donna. What the hell? You’re on my schedule.” 

“I told you; I need to talk to you.” 

“You don’t make an appointment, Donna.” I reply. 

“Hello, Mr. Stickler, for going through the process.” 

“That doesn’t apply to you.” 

“It applied to the last chief of staff you dated.” 

Is she kidding me? What the hell is that crap? 

“You don’t need an appointment.” I say firmly. 

“Okay.” she shrugs. 

“You’re still my girlfriend.” 

“I’m also the chief of staff for the First Lady.” 

“Is that capacity in which you’re here?” Hopefully the minor sense of dread I’m feeling right now isn’t creeping into my voice. I know the day is going to come where there will be an East Wing versus West Wing showdown; it happens from time to time, but I was hoping we’d be a little more accustomed to working together like this first, and, you know, living together. Plus, the East Wing hasn’t completely gotten off it’s feet yet. Helen Santos is having adjustment issues and is still indecisive about what kind of First Lady she really wants to be. Donna’s been helping her out a lot there, but she’s still pretty unsure of things. 

“No. I don’t think so.” 

“You don’t THINK so?” 

“Well, I guess it could be twisted that way, but I think it’s actually personal.” 

Why do I get the feeling she knows about Jack? 

“All right.” I say sitting behind my desk. “Well, have at it. What’s up?” 

“Did you threaten Jack today?” 

“What did he run right over there?” I demand. 

“He came to ask me to lunch.” 

“Are you going?” 

“No. He told me you ordered him to stay way the hell away from me. Is that true?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t like him.” I shrug. 

“There’s a reason why I can’t catch up with an old friend in a public restaurant?” she asks arching a brow. This is where I end up in murky waters, friends. This is where it’s hard for me to navigate. My Donna wouldn’t be challenging here. She’d definitely want to know what the hell possessed me to do something so...sexist...but she wouldn’t be considering going just to either A, piss me off; or B, prove a point. 

“He’s not an old friend Donna, he’s an old boyfriend.” I counter. 

“Just because he wants to have lunch with me, doesn’t mean I’m going to have sex with him, Josh. Don’t you trust me?” 

I CANNOT believe that. I cannot believe she just went there. 

“Of course I trust you.” I say in a low even voice. “Nor was I implying you’d do anything like that, and you know that. But since you don’t see any problem with you going to lunch with Jack, then I can assume you have no problems with me taking Amy up on her offer earlier for lunch.” 

Her eyes widen slightly and her lips purse a bit. Yeah, I hit a button. But what’s good for the goose... 

“No, of course not. Why would I mind?” 

Well, that must have been painful to say. 

“So, you’ll go to lunch with Jack, and I’ll go to lunch with Amy, and it won’t feel like four years ago, and we’ll be okay with it.” 

I told you, sometimes I have to get crafty with her. 

“Absolutely.” she says nodding her head, totally unconvincingly. This obviously is backfiring on her now. The thing is, I don’t think she actually wants to go to lunch with Jack. I think now she just thinks she’s expected to just to prove a point. 

“Or we can just admit to each other that it bothers us.” I say. 

“It shouldn’t.” she says softly. “We should trust each other. You’re implying we don’t.” 

“I’m not at all.” I insist. “I do trust you. And in the entire time we’ve known each other, I know you know how seriously I take loyalty.” Seriously, I didn’t mean that as a dig at all, but I see her wince a bit. “But he was an asshole to you, Donna. He may have treated you well for a while, but giving a blind quote and letting you take the fall was cowardice. He knew what could happen to you and he did it anyway. And anyone who treats you like that doesn’t get my respect and THAT’S what we were fighting about. I threatened him, Donna, because he was saying disrespectful things about you. Please tell me that by now you’ve noticed that I don’t tolerate that.” 

“What was he saying?” she asks softly. 

“Stuff I took exception to.” 

“I’m a big girl, Josh. I think I can take hearing it.” 

“If you trust me as much as you say you do, you won’t make me repeat it.” I counter. She looks at me for a moment, then nods and stands up. She looks like she’s going to head out the door and my heart feels heavy. I don’t want to leave things like that. This feels unresolved. She turns around and looks at me with an unsure smile. 

“So, I guess this means we’re both free for lunch.” 

“It looks like it.” I smile back, feeling like the weight is being lifted. 

“Want to get out of here?” 

“Marcello’s?” 

“I haven’t been there in ages.” she smiles. 

“Me either.” I smile back and she smiles bigger. 

We haven’t been there together or separately in ages. We haven’t been there since...probably before Zoey’s kidnapping. That’s like our happy place. And I like that she hasn’t brought anyone else there. It’s not like it’s a romantic restaurant or anything. It’s a little Italian place we liked to go to because it’s small, off the beaten path, and no one we know has ever gone to it. It’s our place. 

“I have a quick conference call at noon. Why don’t I meet you there around quarter to one?” she offers. 

“It’s a date.” 

TBC


	6. Learning to Navigate

DONNA’S POV 

I walk into Marcello’s five minutes early. I was intending on beating him there so I could try and get our table in the corner by this enormous brick fireplace. But I see his secret service detail. AND he’s already got it. 

I approach the table and he looks up and smiles. When I sit down, the waitress walks over and puts a beer in front of me and I just keep on smiling. We don’t drink wine here, even though it tastes better. We drink beer here. 

“She didn’t give me a menu.” I note as the waitress walks away. 

“You didn’t want the penne with grilled chicken and broccoli, extra garlic, hold the shrimp?” he frowns. 

Oh my God, I can’t believe he remembers what I order here. I actually feel the butterflies in my stomach. It’s had to have been almost two years since we’ve been here. I almost pushed him onto the couch and went at it when I found out he hasn’t brought anyone else here. 

It’s not that this is some great place; it’s that this is OUR place. We found it together working late one weekend, and only ever came here or ordered from here together. We’ve never brought anyone else here. It’s no big deal, it’s just got checkered table cloths and drippy candles and a huge fireplace, and there’s maybe eight tables in the whole place. It’s just...our place. 

“Yes, that’s exactly what I wanted.” I smile. Why can’t more people in the world see how sweet he can be? Why couldn’t CJ? If she had seen this, and listened to him know exactly what I wanted to eat here because he knows me better than he knows himself, she wouldn’t have been so quick to judge. 

“Only you’re going to have to avail yourself of a breath freshener now after that. I’m not kissing you with your garlic breath.” he teases and I smile because Marcello’s HAS just become a romantic restaurant for us. I raise my glass and he toasts mine. 

“Listen...” he starts as I take a sip and he puts his back down. Uh-oh. “I’m sorry about before. I know you don’t treat Amy like that -- ” 

“I have.” I quickly cut him off. 

“What?” 

“I have treated her like that.” 

“You did?” he asks, his eyebrows shooting up. “When?” 

“The night of Zoey’s kidnapping. I think I sort of implied that she wasn’t good enough for you and didn’t understand you. I kind of implied that she didn’t know you as well as I did.” I say quickly. I mean, I should probably explain why I didn’t fly off the handle at him. 

“Well, that’s true.” He says and I feel like I want to call up Amy now and tell her ‘I told you so.’ “But why didn’t I hear about it? I tend to think if you were nasty to her, she would have come running to tell me.” 

“Well, I wasn’t outright nasty.” I quickly defend. “Secondly, Zoey was kidnapped that night, there ended up being other things to focus on; and third, well, I would have had to tell you that she asked me that night if I was in love with you.” 

“What!?” he yelps. He’s pissed. “She said something like that to you?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“You wouldn’t have wanted to know the answer to the question?” I counter. 

“I already knew the answer to the question.” he said softly. 

“Yet, you got back together with her a few months later.” 

“And you said nothing.” he counters. “In fact, when she got fired, YOU were the one encouraging me to go find her.” 

“Yeah.” I say softly briefly dropping my gaze. 

“I wish you would have told me.” he says softly. 

“I wish you would have told you me in Germany.” 

“It wasn’t obvious?” 

“You didn’t use the words.” 

“All right. Well, we’ve already been through this.” he says straightening up and taking a sip of his beer. “We don’t really need to rehash it. I just wanted to say I was sorry for before. I don’t mean to tell you who you can and can’t have lunch with.” 

“I know.” I smile. “And you were right. It would have pissed me off, too, if you had lunch with Amy.” 

“You do realize though that she’s the Director of Legislative Affairs and we are going to have to meet and sometimes it might make sense to eat while we do that though, right?” he says with a cringe. Unfortunately, I do know that. 

“Yes.” I say. “Just so long as you don’t succumb to her charms. You seem to have some sort of weakness for her that’s just sort of...at odds with everything that’s right in the universe.” 

“You’re everything that’s right in the universe and you’re the only one that’s ever been a weakness for me. Amy’s just been...there, at least the second time.” 

Well, now I really wish Amy had heard that one. 

His cell phone rings and he sighs and answers it. I have to say, I feel the same way. I listen to his end of the conversation with Sam and I can tell he has to go. He looks up to the t.v. above the bar. CNN’s showing a school shooting. 

Shit. 

“I’m on my way back, Sam.” he says standing up, and I stand with him. 

“School shooting in Oregon.” he says needlessly pointing to the television. “CNN knew about it first. I’ll take you back.” 

“No.” I say shaking my head. “I’ll wait for the food and get it to go. I’ll bring it back for you.” 

He smiles slightly and leans towards me. “I love you.” he says softly right before he kisses me. 

“I love you, too.” 

Then he breezes out of the restaurant with the secret service detail in tow. 

****************************

JOSH’S POV 

Everyone’s in my office arguing now. Lou, Lester, Bram, Sam, and unfortunately, Jack. Though Jack’s mostly quiet. 

“How come CNN knew about this before WE did?” Lou demands. 

Sam actually laughs out loud. “Lou, you’re going to find that CNN OFTEN knows things before we do.” 

“This is ridiculous.” Lou scoffs rolling her eyes and shaking her head. 

“Josh,” Carol says stepping through the door. “Agent Casper is here.” 

“Show him in.” I direct. Thank God Mike’s here. 

Mike comes in and scans the room. His eyes fall briefly on Jack and he quickly hides a look of dislike. This is because Mike used to have a crush on Donna and never pursued it because of me, and then she dated Jack. 

“What do you know?” I ask Mike. 

“There’s three shooters and they’ve got hostages in the gym.” Mike says directly to me and not acknowledging anyone else. 

“Students?” Sam asks. 

“Well, it IS a school, Sam.” Mike counters. Mike and Sam haven’t ever really gotten over that whole Gault thing. It’s unfortunate because they’re both good friends of mine. 

“Are the shooters students?” I jump back in with a work with me here glare at Mike. 

“Yes.” 

“The hostages?” 

“We think they’re a mix of students and teachers.” 

“You THINK?” Lou demands. “You don’t KNOW?” 

“They haven’t made contact with us yet.” Mike says and gives her an overly indulgent look that clearly shows his annoyance at dealing with amateurs. 

“Well, maybe CNN knows.” Lester mutters. Mike looks like he’s about to fly off the handle. 

“All right.” I say abruptly standing and glaring at my staff. “This isn’t the first time I’ve done one of these. But it IS the first time you guys have. So, I’m going to step in and tell you guys that the first lesson to learn is that you play nice with the guy that’s got the information. This thing is 45 minutes old and there are procedures that get adhered to so we can avoid a big blood bath in a school on national television.” Lou, Lester, Otto, and even Sam look properly chastised. 

Over Mike’s shoulder, I can see Amy walk into the room. She’s not on my top ten favorite people list at the moment, along with a certain naval commander in the room. 

“I have 18 messages about revisiting the recent crime bill.” she announces. 

The hits just keep on coming. 

“Okay. Well, you can call those 18 people back and tell them that I’ve got kids being held hostage by teenage gunmen on national television and I don’t really care about the crime bill at this particular moment. So, if they could hold off for a couple of days, I’m sure I’ll be more receptive to their concerns.” I shoot back and Donna enters the room with lunch. Suddenly, things feel a little easier. 

“Wow! Something smells good!” Otto notes looking over to Donna. “Where’d you get that?” 

“Nowhere in particular.” She shakes her head with a slight shrug of her shoulders and I smile. Our place will remain our place. 

“Is there something in there for me, Donna?” Mike smiles. I think he’s still got that crush. 

“No, Mike.” she smiles back. 

“Standing right here.” I announce. 

“Well, I have a briefing.” Bram says. 

“Work with him, please, Sam.” I say sitting down and rubbing my hand over my face. 

“Sure.” Sam says, then ushers everyone but Mike and Donna out of the office. 

“Update me every half hour, please.” I ask Mike. 

“Yeah.” he nods. 

“How ugly is it going to get?” I ask him. 

“We don’t know how many kids they have.” Mike replies. “All we have right now are eyewitness reports. Some are saying a few; some are saying dozens. The school is doing a good job of keeping the kids in one place so they can take attendance and check it against this morning’s records, but parents are showing up and demanding their kids, and some kids just took off for home...” 

“Yeah.” I say. “I’ll see you later.” 

Mike leaves the room and Donna puts a take out carton in front of me. I look up at her gratefully. She’s about to turn to head to the other side of the desk when I pull her across my lap instead and bury my face in her chest. Thank God the doors are closed. I inhale deeply and she hugs me tightly. 

“I didn’t think this stuff would suck this much.” I confess looking up at her. 

“You thought it sucked when you were deputy, you didn’t think it would suck more sitting in this chair?” she asks and all I can do is shrug. No, I didn’t think that. I didn’t think about this stuff, I thought about the political stuff. “I’ll stay with you.” she assures and kisses me on the forehead before she rises and heads back to the other side of the desk to her lunch. 

She has no idea what those words mean to me right now. 

TBC


	7. Learning to Navigate

DONNA’S POV 

“How does it work if I want to go someplace?” The First Lady asks entering my office as I jump to my feet. This is the first I’ve seen of her in days. We’ve been over run with appearance requests and so the staff has started speeches, but it’s hard to put a voice to a person that’s mostly scarce. 

“You get a mini motorcade.” I say. 

“No, I mean fly someplace.” she says. 

“You just got here, you want to go to Texas already?” I ask. I don’t know if I’m following her. 

“No. I want to go to Oregon.” She says. “To Portland. Isn’t that near where the school is?” 

“Yes.” I say. 

“So if I want to go there, how does it work?” 

“May I ask WHY you want to go there, ma’am?” 

“Three kids unloaded guns in a school, Donna.” the says a little testily. “There’s seven people dead; five of which are kids, there’s another 20 that have been injured.” 

“Right. And the White House will send out official condolences to the families. The President will call them himself.” I reply. I try to keep my voice neutral. I don’t want to talk to her like a child because, well, she’s not. But I also don’t want to sound like I expect her to know everything. There’s a lot to learn about being First Lady, and what makes me nervous, is I’m not always sure what it means to be First Lady. 

“That’s what HE’S doing.” she says shaking her head. “I want to know what I can do. I want to go there. I want to speak to the families. I want to be a comfort to people, if I can be.” 

“You can be. You can go on t.v. and --” 

“No.” she cuts me off. “I want to GO there, Donna. I want to talk to the family; I want to talk to the victims. I don’t want them to just get a sorry about your crappy luck call from my husband and a canned statement that we must do better to keep our kids safe. I want to GO there and show them that we’ll do better. I’m a woman and a mother, and I want to go where women and mothers are hurting. I’m supposed to be a role model to them right now and they’re supposed to be my people. I want to show them I care.” 

Well, that was passionate. 

“I want to be a hands on First Lady, Donna.” she says earnestly. “I know I have a lot to learn and I’ve had trouble navigating and finding a direction these past few weeks, but this the direction I want. I mean, I have kids, I don’t want a jam packed speaking schedule or anything, but I want to be there for our citizens.” 

“Okay. Well, I’ll see how it works.” I say. “I’ll have to talk to the secret service and I’ll have to talk to the West Wing.” 

“Why?” 

“Well, the secret service has to fly you.” I begin. 

“No, why does it have to be cleared through the West Wing? Can’t we just tell them this is what we want to do?” 

“Well, because they’re actually the ones that are in charge.” I say hesitantly. “Your husband is the President and we have to do things that fall in line with him.” 

“I think my husband can get behind showing compassion for children that have suffered an atrocity.” 

“Yes, I’m sure he can.” I say. She’s really fired up. I don’t know really where to go with this. She and I don’t know each other well. 

“I also want to get involved with Freedom House.” 

“Freedom House doesn’t align itself with the democratic party.” 

“Well, it doesn’t align itself with the republican party either.” she counters. Good point. “I also don’t care what the democratic party thinks.” 

“The West Wing does and we answer to them.” 

“I don’t answer to them.” she shoots back. Oh shit. I wonder if every First Lady is like this in the beginning. “I’m a person with my own opinions and my own things that I want to see done while we’re here.” 

“Yes, I understand that. But we DO answer to them.” 

“You are going to be aggressive with them, right, Donna? I got the impression that you wouldn’t back down from them. That’s why I picked you.” 

“Of course, ma’am. I’m not afraid of the senior staff.” I’m just afraid my boyfriend is going to have a meltdown over a rogue First Lady. 

“Okay, good.” she says with a clap of her hands. “So get this stuff moving, please. Contact Freedom House, and also the American Red Cross. I used to be involved with them years ago and then Matt decided to run for Congress and it’s one of the things I gave up, but I want to get involved with them again, too.” 

She breezes back out of my office and I lower my head to my desk and begin to bounce it up and down. 

**************************

JOSH’S POV 

I look up when I sense someone looking at me. Donna’s standing in my doorway leading out to the corridors. I smile at her, but it begins to fall when I take in her appearance. She looks like she’s about to lose her shit. 

“What the hell happened?” I demand pulling her into the office. 

“Hurricane Helen.” she says with a small laugh. 

“What?” 

“She’s come up with some things that she wants to do.” Donna says, she’s still got this amazed tone to her voice. 

“And it’s bad?” I ask. 

“Well, she wants to get involved with Freedom House and the American Red Cross.” Donna says. Freedom House might cause a few headaches, but it’ll probably be harmless enough and who doesn’t support the American Red Cross? 

“Okay.” I say slowly, rubbing her shoulder a bit. 

“She also wants to go to Oregon.” Donna blurts. 

Shit. I should have seen this coming. 

“What did you say?” 

“I said I’d look into what goes into her going someplace like that and that we’d have to clear it with the West Wing.” 

Okay, well, good answer. Now, does she want to do it? 

“That’s it?” I ask. 

“What do you think about that?” 

“I think it might not be a good idea.” I say hesitantly and she looks slightly disappointed now. “I’m just afraid of how it would look.” 

“You don’t think it’ll look like she’s trying to be a comfort?” 

“I think it’ll look like we’re looking for a photo op so early in the term.” I say honestly. “If she goes out there, she’s going to set a precedent. She’ll be expected to pop up wherever shitty things happen in the country.” 

“Well, the thing is, is I think that’s what she wants.” Donna says slowly. “I get the feeling that she wants to be a cross between Eleanor Roosevelt and Princess Diana. But I think she genuinely wants to go out there and be with these families. She was really passionate about it, Josh. I’ve never heard her like that.” 

“Well, she’s been laying pretty low.” 

“She’s not right now.” 

“I’m just not wild about the visual.” I say with a slight wince. “It’s a new administration.” 

“If I tell her we’re not bringing press, I don’t think she’ll have a single problem with that.” Donna says. “It IS a new administration. There are differences; the American public should see that, right?” 

Hmm...I’m sure we won’t be able to keep totally under the radar, I mean, local press will probably pick it up, she’ll still have to travel with secret service, but keeping her press contingent behind might work. But... 

“Okay, well, that’s kind of a double edged sword.” I say. “She’s got a press detail. If you ditch them in the middle of the night and local press gets her first appearance or charity visit and her own press corps is denied it, you’ll have a hard time earning their trust back.” 

“I’m not so sure.” she says. “If we put in our comment to local press that we wanted to fly in under the radar and not make a big media hype about her going, that’ll get around, too. Public perception of her will rise. What’s her press corps going to do? Not cover her? They’re reputable reporters, they’re not going to lie about her.” 

She’s gotten awfully good at spin. 

“Well, I’m still kind of hesitant.” I confess. “But if the President’s okay with it, then I won’t fight it.” I mean, it’s not like it’s going to cost us re-election or anything. At worst, it’ll look like a First Lady trying to find her sea legs. 

She smiles brightly and me and I’m grinning like a goon. “What?” I ask. 

“This could have been ugly.” she smiles. “This could have been a thing for us here.” 

“Don’t get your hopes up.” I chuckle. “That is still guaranteed to happen.” 

“You’re awfully...” 

“What?” 

“I don’t know.” she shrugs. “Supportive.” 

“Of course I’m supportive of you.” I say. 

“Well, now. You just said yourself it’s not always going to be like that.” 

“We just need to find our balance.” 

“She said she was having a hard time navigating.” 

“Aren’t we all.” 

***************************

DONNA’S POV 

I can’t help but wonder if he was like this with Amy, too, when she was new to the job. Did he try and coax her through, too? He’s being awfully gentle with me. 

Well, I do remember him having to fight with her about putting things through the process and not running right to him with stuff they wanted. 

But he wasn’t like this with her. I mean, he did try to save her job, but he didn’t seem....this way. 

“So what do I do?” 

“Call Treasury and tell them the First Lady wants to fly to Oregon.” he says. 

“Who does the rest?” 

“The secret service. They’ll fly her out.” 

“She doesn’t get Air Force One?” 

“I don’t think so.” He smiles. “But I’m pretty sure you won’t find the jet lacking.” 

“If it’s not Air Force One, it’s lacking.” 

“Well, baby, that’s true.” he chuckles. I startle a bit and cock my head to one side. “What?” 

“It’s...you haven’t...” 

“What?” 

“You haven’t really...called me anything like that before.” 

“It just kind of slipped out. Do you not like it?” 

“It’s nice.” I smile. “We didn’t seem like we were like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“The pet names thing.” 

He shrugs, “I guess we are.” He frowns when he sees my eyes tearing up. 

“What wrong?” He asks immediately guiding me to the couch. 

“Nothing.” I say taking a deep breath. What the hell is wrong with me? This man is wonderful. Now that I have all of him, I love him even more. He’s more than I dreamed he was. But I have this career now. I can so easily get lost in him again and make his life my life. I’m entitled to a life, too. I’m entitled to a career people respect, to be seen for who I am and what I can do, and not who’s arm I’m on. 

I head back to my office lost in thought. Later that afternoon, Helen tells me the President okay’d the trip out, as long as we’re in and out and don’t make a big media circus out of it. My assistant sets it up with the secret service and we’re flying out in the morning. I call the Governor of Oregon who falls all over himself to accommodate us. We can’t step on toes out there, after all, and the Governor is a democrat. I reiterate to him that we’re trying to keep the visit low key. We don’t want a media frenzy and would like to keep any press to a minimum. Really though, this is how I get her visit out there because, of course, the Governor is going to exploit it. I don’t want a big thing either, but I’m in charge of the First Lady’s image, and I can’t improve it, if people don’t see her doing anything. 

By the time I get to my apartment that night, I’m exhausted. The First Lady making last minute travel plans for the first time is pretty exhausting. But for the first time since the election, I really saw her realize she had a purpose and a place with us. It was encouraging. Hopefully, this will pave the way for her and get her motivated because I really feel she’ll be an outstanding First Lady. I think she’ll be a First Lady we can cherish. She’s got a good heart. People should see it. 

“Donna!” Josh calls walking in my front door. We’ve gotten past that whole knocking thing now. I come out of the bedroom, having just gotten changed into pajama pants and a t-shirt and packed for the trip. 

“Hey.” I smile as I entered the living room. 

“Off to Oregon in the morning, huh?” he smiles. 

“Yeah, it’s an 8 a.m. flight.” 

He grins at me and I could swear I see pride there. 

“I had an idea today.” 

“Just one?” I snark. 

“One big one.” He smirks back. 

“Okay. What is it?” I ask sitting down on the couch and looking up at him. 

“What if we don’t move into either one of our apartments and we find a new place together?” 

For reasons that I’m dying to understand, that anxious feeling I’ve been getting when he brings this up immediately begins to engulf me. 

“Josh...” I start quietly after a few moments. 

“That’s how I thought you’d feel about it.” he replies, the spark he had a minute ago is gone. He shakes his head and turns towards the door. 

“Josh, don’t leave!” 

He stops and turns back to me. When I see the look in his eyes, I immediately think I should have let him leave. I don’t think this is going to be better. 

“You gave me four weeks to figure out what I wanted Donna; I figured it out in 24 hours, only to find out, that you weren’t really there with me.” 

“What the hell does that mean? Of course I am. You’re the only one I love; you’re the only one I’m seeing. I don’t understand why you’re so adamant about this. You didn’t want to move in with Amy when you were with her. CJ didn’t seem to...” 

“Can it be just me and you in this relationship? Why does CJ and Amy have to be in it, too? I didn’t love Amy, that’s why I didn’t want to live with her. And what the hell does CJ have to do with anything? I never dated her; I was never remotely interested in dating her.” 

“Josh...” I say softly. 

“Go to Oregon, Donna.” he says in a clipped tone. “Go figure out what the hell it is you can actually give me. Until then, just...” he trails off and looks like he’s looking through me now, instead of at me. 

“Until then just what, Josh?” I ask quietly. 

He shakes his head again, and I see there’s tears streaming slowly down his cheeks. He rubs a hand down his face, then turns and leaves. 

I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach. 

Oh my God. 

I think Josh just broke up with me. 

TBC


	8. Learning to Navigate

SAM’S POV 

I cruise into Josh’s office, report in hand and drop it on his desk. It’s early and I want him to have it when he comes in. I turn to leave his office and hear a groan from the couch. I look over and Josh is just sitting up. 

“Did you sleep here last night?” I demand. 

“Yes.” he groans stretching out his back and standing up. 

“Why?” 

“Something happened.” 

“Situation room?” 

“No, worse.” 

“What’s worse than the situation room?” 

“I got in a fight with Donna.” 

“Why didn’t you just go home?” 

“She’s got stuff there. I wanted to be where she wasn’t.” He says walking to his desk and turning a lamp on. In the light, I can see he looks REALLY bad. 

“So you came here?” I ask. “To the very place that’s been the embodiment of your entire relationship?” 

He stops and blinks a few times then looks around the room as if it’s the first time he’s ever seen it. “Thanks, Sam; picked me right up there.” 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” 

“It’s really not Sam.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“It’s possible I broke up with her.” 

Oh. 

My. 

God. 

“What?” I squeak. After all these years, I’ve finally picked up his squeaking. I think I’d rather the pacing. If I start bouncing, I’m quitting my job. I will not be Josh Squared. 

“How....what...why...” I sputter. I’m stunned. Three months? They gave it three months? Nine years of the most massive sexual tension I’ve ever seen, of literally pining away for each other and they give it three measly months? 

“She’s not committed to the relationship, Sam.” He says and moves behind his desk. 

“She loves you, Josh! Of course she’s committed to you.” 

“Her heart is, Sam. But that’s it.” he says, and I can tell he’s getting worked up. “Nine years, Sam. Do you know when she realized she was in love with me? When I got shot. She’s never thought about this before? This has never crossed her mind? I flew to Germany. My feelings were pretty obvious to her, she admits that. I don’t understand how given the history we have, she can’t be ready for this.” 

“Have you talked to her about it?” 

“Yes! She says it’s me. She says I’m not ready; I’m afraid she’s going to leave me; I’m not passed seeing her as someone that works for me.” 

“I don’t think that’s true.” 

“That’s what she says, Sam.” 

“I’m not disputing that. I think that’s what she says, I just think she’s misdirecting you.” 

“Well, that’s just one more reason then,” he says and flops down into his chair. “I’m tired of the misdirection.” 

My eyes drift to the wall behind him as Carol comes in. She stops when she sees him. 

“What the hell happened to you?” she demands. 

“What the hell happened to the wall?” I demand, pointing to the hole I’ve just discovered there. 

“I don’t know who to answer first.” he says. 

“Me.” I snap. 

“I was pissed; I punched the wall.” He shrugs. 

“You punched a WALL!?” I ask incredulously. This is not good. Not. Good. Donna’s going to Oregon. He CAN’T do this now. 

“Donna is going to kick your ass.” Carol says. “Why the hell did you punch a wall?” 

“Donna.” he says simply. 

“Oh.” Carol replies. “Um...okay, well the wall thing is not good. I’m going to have to call maintenance. I mean what’s with you guys and breaking the White House when you’re pissed? It’s the White House for crying out loud. And...um...should I call anyone else?” 

“I didn’t put my hand through a window.” he shoots back annoyed....really annoyed. 

“Donna would want me to ask that.” 

“Donna’s got you watching me like that?” he asks thoughtfully. Oh, ho, ho. Maybe he’s discovering that she’s a little more committed to him than he thinks. 

“It’s a stressful job; she’s worried.” Carol shrugs, obviously not sorry to be outed. 

“No. I don’t need you to call anyone else.” And he’s back to brooding. Carol leaves the office after a wary look and closes the door. 

“See? She worries about you.” 

“I don’t doubt that she loves me, Sam.” he says and stands back up. I take in his appearance and wince. 

“You can’t walk around here like that today.” 

“No kidding. I’ve got extra clothes downstairs in the locker room. I’m going down there now to take a shower.” 

“Oh and Josh?” Carol calls from her desk. “The People article went to print.” 

***************************

DONNA’S POV 

“Well, you look like shit.” Annabeth says dropping into a seat next to me on the plane. My first thought was that Josh was right. I don’t find the plane lacking. And that brought my second thought crashing into me. I have no idea the status of me and Josh right now. I have NEVER not known where I stood with him. I always knew my place in his life. But right now, I’m not sure I have one anymore. 

I was up all night sobbing. My attempts this morning to hide that have obviously not been successful. 

“Well, don’t sugar coat it on my account.” I reply. 

“What happened?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Well, it’s not nothing. Come on, you’ve got to talk about it with someone.” 

But I really can’t. I can’t discuss mine and Josh’s relationship with anyone. Not anyone that works in the White House anyway. Josh is the chief of staff. I can’t say anything that might undermine him with the rest of the staff, and if I tell Annabeth what happened, he’ll end up looking like the bad guy. 

“I can’t talk about it.” I say. 

“So you got in a fight with Josh then?” she concludes. 

“What makes you think that?” 

“What else wouldn’t you be able to talk to me about?” she smiles. “If it was work, you’d say so, right? So if it’s not work, it’s Josh. What else to your life is there?” 

“We’re just...” I begin. “Having a hard time navigating. It’s tough to balance these jobs and a relationship.” 

“Well, I don’t think that’s it at all.” she says. “I mean, I think what you’re saying is true and all, but you guys have known each other so long and you made it to this point. You couldn’t have gotten here without having faith in each other, right?” 

I have to find our faith in us again. I had that once. I mean, I propositioned him on election night. I don’t think I would have done that if I wasn’t positive he’d follow. I think back to that night and I can’t help but look on it critically. I was the one running. He came to talk to me and I ran out to regroup. I had what I always wanted and I was more concerned about work. How did I let myself turn into that woman? Why did I think I’d be more happy if I was more career driven? Why did I think he’d want me if I was like Amy or CJ? Why did I listen to CJ anyway? He loved me before I became this robot. 

Where did I go? 

“Well,” Annabeth sighs when she sees I’m not going to dish. “It’s a long flight. Why don’t you read this to kill some time.” 

She drops a copy of People in my lap and moves to the other side of the cabin. 

TBC


	9. Learning to Navigate

Our next eligible bachelor is White House Chief of Staff Joshua Lyman, 44. Often referred to as the 101st Senator, Josh has had a long and distinguished career in politics, spanning nearly 20 years. A graduate of Harvard and Yale, he first worked as the floor manager for the House Majority Whip, before becoming chief of staff for Congressman Earl Brennan. From there, he moved on to work for then-Senator Hoynes. It was while working for John Hoynes that Josh was sought out by former Secretary of Labor Leo McGarry to join the upstart campaign for New Hampshire Governor Josiah Bartlet as their political director. After Bartlet won the election, Josh served seven years as the White House Deputy Chief of Staff before leaving to be the campaign manager for Congressman Matt Santos. 

While serving in the Bartlet White House, Josh was instrumental in forming policy and creating legislation. He was the mastermind behind many of the administration’s achievements. He is attributed to the successful campaign to appoint the Supreme Court’s first female Chief Justice Evelyn Baker Lang while at the same time, appointing Associate Justice Christopher Mulreedy, creating history in the process. It was Josh’s political strategy that maneuvered President Bartlet into the negotiating position to lift his historic government shutdown and the let the budget pass. 

Throughout his visible career, Josh has been linked to media strategist Madeline Hampton, California pollster Joey Lucas and lobbyist and current Director of Legislative Affairs Amy Gardner. But his longtime love has been Donnatella Moss, his assistant of eight years. Moss left the White House to work media targeting for Vice President Russell’s presidential campaign, then served as the spokesperson for Matt Santos, where she was discovered by Helen Santos and is now the First Lady’s Chief of Staff. 

Whispers around the Beltway have swirled for years around these two seemingly star crossed lovers. Though they deny any sort of romantic love affair until this past election night, sources close to the couple say their feelings for each other had always been relatively obvious. 

Donna was instrumental to Josh’s recovery after the events of Rosslyn left him in by-pass surgery for 14 hours and recovery for three months. “Donna’s always been a source of strength to him.” says former Chief of Staff and Bartlet Press Secretary CJ Cregg. “Never more so than when he was recovering after the shooting. It was Donna who could tell when he was having an off day. She’d keep the rest of us at bay and shield him from the outside world until he was ready to face it again. He finds inspiration in her.” 

Although they left President Bartlet’s staff separately, their paths crossed again on the Santos campaign. “It was pretty obvious that first day there was a history to them.” Says a source on the campaign, but who wished to remain anonymous. “I thought about asking her out once, but it sort of looked like she was taken already. She obviously only had eyes for him. The chemistry between them was amazing.” 

If Josh is so obviously off the market why do we still include him among our most eligible bachelors of D.C. list? There’s no ring on his finger... 

***********************

DONNA’S POV 

It’s not the article that affects me so much as the pictures. One picture in particular. It was taken the day he was released from the hospital. I remember the events surrounding that picture like it was yesterday. He flatly refused the wheelchair leaving the hospital. He would only take it so far as the lobby. He said CNN was outside and he wasn’t giving America their first glimpse of him and appearing weak. So I held his hand through the lobby and he let go of it as soon as we crossed through the doors. He waved to the rope line of reporters and went right to the car. Once we were safely ensconced in the back seat and had pulled away from GW, he fell into my lap exhausted. I ran my fingers through his hair the whole way home while he tried to compose himself. That was the first of many moments like that to come in the weeks that followed. And then had come Christmas Eve... 

I WAS there for him every step of the way; and in return, he was there every step of the way for me after Gaza. The problem was, where he found comfort in my presence while he recovered, I pushed him away. I was confused by it. I couldn’t help but keep thinking he was doing it out of some kind of obligation or in payment of a debt; that he could be doing it out of love was unfathomable to me. 

I look at another picture that’s got he and I in it. I don’t remember when exactly it was taken, but we’re not in formalwear so it’s probably a speech or a campaign stop. It’s the image of a hundred moments in our relationship really. We’re outside and it’s a sunny day. We’ve both got sunglasses on and we’re standing apart from the group. Because I know him so well, and I know us, I can tell what was happening in the pictures. He’s gesturing with his hands. He’s obviously trying to convince me of a point, but I’m laughing at him. Even though I’ve got sunglasses on, I’m pretty sure I was rolling my eyes. 

What happened to those two people? When did they start listening to outside influences and why couldn’t those people just leave them alone? 

Helen comes and sits down next to me, smiling. “I was hoping we’d get Air Force One. I haven’t seen it yet.” 

“You’ll be impressed when you do.” I assure with a nod. “It’s quite something.” 

“Well, even this is better than I’ve ever traveled before.” 

“Yeah, me too. Well, next to Air Force One.” 

“Thank you, Donna.” she says. “I know I was a little overwhelming yesterday when I just came in and demanded so much.” 

“You’re in a tough position, ma’am.” I say. “Everyone’s looking at you right now. It’s got to be pretty nerve wracking. The people have high expectations for their First Lady.” 

“And you?” 

“I just want you to find what it is that’s going to shape you and help you get there.” I shrug. 

“For years, Donna, I’ve played the politician’s wife. I’ve done the photo ops and appearances, and stood by his side to remember the names and faces, wore uncomfortable clothes so I’d look perfect, couldn’t lose my temper at soccer games because I was a Congressman’s wife and had to keep up appearances. Now I have to do that times a hundred. I’ve always supported Matt in his career and the things he’s chosen to do. Sometimes, I feel like I’ve lost myself in him and forgotten who I am and what I wanted. I was so busy shaping myself into what I thought was the woman he needed that I forgot about the woman he fell in love with. Do you know what I mean?” 

I’m amazed at the parallels she’s drawing now. Of course, she has no idea she’s drawing a parallel. She just doesn’t know Josh and I that well. But as I sit here and listen to her, I’d swear she was talking about me. 

“Ma’am --” 

“Helen.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“I can’t even be Helen when we’re having girl talk?” 

“This isn’t girl talk; this is talking shop.” 

“Then let’s turn it into talking shopING because I really get the feeling this is girl talk.” 

“You might be surprised, but I know EXACTLY what you’re talking about, ma’am.” 

“Helen, and I thought you might.” she smiles. “See? Girl talk.” 

I return her warm smile and I can feel a bond forming. The Donna I had become would try to keep things as professional as absolutely possible. But this isn’t Abby Bartlet; this is Helen Santos, and I think we need a different approach, a different dynamic. 

“So, let’s strap on the girl power and compare notes.” she says with a clap of her hands, and I’m laughing in response. It feels good. 

“I did some research.” She announces. Well, this I can get behind. Research is where I live! “I researched all the past First Ladies. I wanted to know what a First Lady was, what was expected of me and what they made it. There were some that, of course, stood above the rest, Eleanor Roosevelt, Jacqueline Kennedy; then there were some I never even heard of. I thought, what did they do? They’re a name in the history book next to the President of the United States and it basically says, ‘she did nothing’ next to her name. I’m going to have a portrait that’s going to hang in the White House forever, until someone burns the place down. I don’t want the tour guides to say, ‘And this is Helen Santos. But we’ll just move along now because she didn’t do anything anyway.’ I think I can be both. I think I can be the wife Matt needs and the person I am. Will you help me, Donna?” 

“We’ll help each other.” 

“I don’t know what it means to be First Lady.” 

“Well, we’ll rewrite the book then.” 

TBC


	10. Learning to Navigate

JOSH’S POV 

My head hits the pillow, but I’m not tired. Well, that’s not true. I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep. You’d think I’d be able to sleep tonight since I didn’t sleep last night, but no can do. The image of Donna’s stunned and devastated face right before I left last night is burned in my brain. It’s been there all day. 

I feel awful. I feel like such a shit. I want to beg her forgiveness and tell her that I’ll take her any way I could get her. But I’ve done that. For years, the only way I could have her was at work. I just need more. That’s why she left to work for Russell. She needed more from me and she needed more from her career, and I couldn’t give it. 

Am I crazy? Am I crazy for pushing? For expecting more? For demanding more? I want my Donna back. I want the quirky, compassionate, amazing woman I fell in love with. Donna told me that was a girl and the girl’s grown up. I don’t buy it. 

But maybe she really is gone. People change. I used to be a political machine. I only ever cared about work, then she came along. And I started to care about more. And I started to remember why I went into politics to begin with. I cared about the people I was affecting again. 

I suppose if I have to wait ten years for Donna’s Donna to come around, I will. But I don’t know if I can handle that. In the meantime, I’m going to keep fighting for her. I’ll just keep fighting until I’m dead if I have to. Shouldn’t take too much longer; my defenses are down. 

I’m about to give up and take some sleeping pills to shut my mind off when my cell phone rings Donna’s number. I launch myself over to my nightstand and snatch it up, all the while cursing my desperation and ordering myself not to beg her to forget everything I said and apologize until she takes me back. 

“Donna?” I ask quickly into the phone. Dammit, so much for hiding the desperation. 

“Josh?” her voice is light and unsure. She sounds so far away. Well, duh, you idiot, she IS far away; she’s on the other side of the freaking country. 

“Donna, are you all right?” Don’t mind me. I’m just that whipped guy everyone knows. 

I hear her sniff and alarms go off in my head. “Donna, are you crying?” 

“Yes. I’m sorry.” she says and I can hear her tears through the phone. 

“Why? Are you all right? Has something happened?” 

“Yes! Something’s happened, Josh!?” 

Oh God. My heart falls to my stomach and my mouth goes dry. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” 

“I fucked us up! That’s what happened!” 

Wait a minute. What? 

“What?” 

“You and me, Josh.” she says and I breath a momentary sigh of relief because she’s ONLY referring to the shambles our relationship is in and she’s actually okay. 

“Donna, have you been drinking?” 

“Um...a little bit, yes.” she says hesitantly. Great, she drank and dialed. This should be an enlightening conversation. 

“I changed for you, Josh.” she whispers. “CJ said horrible things to me the night of the lock down. She said I could be so much more if I wasn’t with you. And then I thought that you kept going back to Amy, and so that must be the kind of woman you liked, so I tried to be more like her, and it wasn’t until I was that you finally noticed me and kissed me.” 

What the hell? What the hell is she talking about? 

“I loved you, Donna, because you weren’t like them.” I say softly. “I only ever wanted you for who you are. I kissed you in my hotel room that morning because for the first time since before you left for Gaza, I found YOU again and it was overwhelming.” 

“I’m so sorry.” she whispers. 

“What brought this on?” 

“I thought you wanted me to think about it.” 

“I did.” 

“So why are you asking me that?” 

“Sorry.” 

“Sorry.” It’s so quiet I almost didn’t hear it. 

“Seriously, Donna, what happened?” 

“These kids...” she says and pauses. “They’re so hurt, Josh.” 

“Well, yeah, Donna, they’ve been shot.” I say in response. 

Oh. 

Oh, I see. 

So, between that and the article in People...no wonder she had a few drinks. 

“It’s all right, Donna.” I say softly. 

“What do I have to do, Josh? Tell me what I have to do?” 

“Do for what?” 

“To fix it; to fix us. What do I have to do?” 

“Come home.” I say smiling lightly. “Just come home.” 

TBC


	11. Learning to Navigate

JOSH’S POV 

I knew she was here long before I sensed her presence in my office doorway. Security told me as soon as the First Lady and her staff pulled through the front gate. 

What? So I can get obsessive, sue me. That’s a big surprise to you? I’ve had a rough couple of days here. Can I help it if the love of my life has returned and it looks like she intends to remain the love of my life? Well, not that I would easily have found another one if I drove her away, but you know what I mean. 

But she’s standing in my doorway now and she’s smiling tentatively at me. I remember this smile. This is the smile she used to give me when she wasn’t sure if something she did was going to make me flip out or not. She looks like my Donna. 

The connecting door to the Oval Office is shut, but I’m not worried about the President interrupting us because I know he’s gone up to the Residence to see his wife. The door to Carol’s outer office is already shut, and the door she’s standing in is about to be shut. 

I walk slowly to her and she takes a few steps into the room. When I’m standing before her, I reach over her shoulder and push that door shut, too. Poor Otto. I just saw him starting to appear in the threshold. I think he can take the hint. 

I stand there and look at her for a minute. She looks tired, but happy. I want to give her a minute to get over this sudden shyness she’s got. She’s looking like it’s the first time I’m looking at her naked. 

And let the record reflect, the first time I saw her naked, she was NOT shy. 

Her eyes drop to my lips and then back up to my eyes, then she takes in a ragged breath. 

“It’s just me, Donna.” I chuckle softly. 

“I know.” she nods. “I’m just so sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“It’s not. You’re the most important thing in the world to me.” 

“I know.” 

“I just thought if I could be more of what you were attracted to...” 

“Donna,” I say smiling. “You are, and always have been since the day I met you, what I’ve been attracted to. Everyone else was just a distraction while I was in denial.” 

She starts tearing up. 

“Oh God, Donna. Please don’t cry.” I plead rolling my eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” she says with half a squeak and half a whine. It’s really quite endearing. 

“You know I have NO idea what to do with you when you cry.” 

“I hardly ever cry!” 

“You nearly lost your shit when my mom bought me shoes.” 

“Well, that was just so adorable.” 

“When I woke up in the recovery room?” 

“That was just heartbreaking.” 

“When President Bartlet won re-election?” 

“Well, that was because I thought we were never going to have sex.” 

“Well... what?” 

“I was in mourning. Suddenly, I was going to have to wait another four years to sleep with you.” 

“Huh.” I say with my hands on my hips and I glance away to ponder that. 

“Yeah.” 

“Interesting.” 

“Not so much.” 

“Well, it is to me.” 

“Back to, you know, what’s happening now.” she says taking my chin and turning me to look in her endless blue eyes. 

“What’s happening now?” I smile. 

“I have some requirements for our new place.” she says crossing her arms over her chest. She’s getting ready to negotiate with me. She should know better. She said the words ‘our new place,’ she gets whatever she wants. 

“Oh?” I ask playing along. I take a step back and assume my master politician pose that I know makes her wild. She just licked her lips. We may not make it through this. I have a couch, a desk and a sizeable table in here, not to mention the floor... 

“Three bedrooms at least.” she says. 

“Three!?” What the hell? It’s her and me, what the hell do we need three bedrooms for? Maybe one is for when I’m an asshole and get kicked out of the bed? I mean, that’s bound to happen, right? 

“Well, one for an office and the secret service.” she starts. Well, that’s plausible. “One for us.” Yes, definitely. “And one for whoever comes along that needs a place to sleep.” 

“What, do you mean like our parents?” 

“Or them, too.” 

Or them, too? Who the hell else will sleep at our place? She knows I can’t stand her sister because she’s WAY to snobby. She’s kind of like Donna in that she retains all this information, but where you find it endearing with Donna because she works it in to the nuttiest places, her sister is just a know it all and -- 

OH! 

Well, shit. 

Apparently, she’s been thinking a lot more than I have. Of course, try as I might, I can’t stop this goofy Sam-grin on my face right. 

“Maybe,” I say putting my hands on her waist and pulling her close before dropping a light kiss right where her collar bone meets her neck. “We should skip the renting part and go right to the buying part.” 

Please don’t unspool, please don’t unspool, please don’t unspool. 

“Like a house?” 

“Like a townhouse.” I correct. “We have to still be in Washington for the time being.” 

“A place of our very own?” she smiles. 

“Yes.” 

“With hardwood floors?” 

“Sure.” I say trailing my mouth up her neck. 

“And fireplaces?” 

“Anything you want.” 

“I can fully renovate a kitchen?” 

“You can do whatever you want.” As long as you do it naked. I should have probably said that little stipulation out loud. 

“I really am sorry.” she says softly. 

“Donna, I don’t want you to be sorry.” 

“What do you want me to be?” 

“Horizontal.” I say automatically and she giggles. 

“That’s it?” 

“And naked.” 

“I can do horizontal and naked.” she tosses back. “Can you blow off the rest of your day?” 

“Um...let me check. Yes.” 

“Josh!” 

“I’m the boss. I don’t have anything that can’t be rescheduled.” 

“You’re trying to run a country.” 

“I’ve got a deputy.” 

“You’re going to leave the country in Sam’s hands?” 

“It’s just for a few hours.” 

“Hope he doesn’t have a party.” 

“Or set fire to the... never mind.” 

TBC


	12. Learning to Navigate

“This one’s nice.” 

“It comes with some nice sticker shock, too.” 

“It’s not that far out of our price range, Josh.” 

“Just $35,000. But when you’re talking about a guy like me that sends billions of dollars of aid to a foreign country or charges small Middle Eastern countries half the World Bank for a few destroyers, what’s $35,000 really?” 

“You’ve resorted to the grumpy man’s wit?” 

“I’ve found it to work the best in scenarios like this.” 

“Really?” 

“Sure.” 

“Just how many times HAVE you been house hunting with a woman?” 

“Umm...” 

“That’s what I thought.” 

********************************

“Okay. Well this one is just going to give me nightmares.” 

“Why?” 

“It looks like the White House.” 

“It’s a brick faced townhouse. It looks NOTHING like the White House.” 

“Oh no, Donna? Look up.” 

“What? The crown moulding?” 

“Yup.” 

“The White House’s crown moulding is WAY more impressive than that.” 

“Still. It looks like it.” 

“So this is a no?” 

“This is a no.” 

********************************

“Oh my God, Donna!” 

“No freaking way.” 

“Look at the size of that t.v.!” 

“The t.v. doesn’t come with the house.” 

“I can negotiate for that t.v.” 

“You’ll never get it.” 

“Wanna make a bet?” 

“No.” 

“Come on, bet me. I’m the master negotiator. I can get that t.v.” 

“This house only has two bedrooms and a really horrible smell.” 

“But a bitchin t.v.!” 

“No.” 

“Come on.” 

“Why don’t you just BUY that t.v. for our house?” 

“Because I want to see now if we can negotiate it.” 

“You’re incorrigble.” 

“So we can put a bid on this place?” 

“Not a chance.” 

*******************************

“No way, Donna.” 

“What? Why?” 

“No.” 

“You haven’t even seen it yet.” 

“Tucker?” 

“Sorry, Miss Moss. We can’t do this.” 

“We haven’t even been inside!” 

“There’s too much I don’t like already.” 

“Joshua! You TOLD him to say that!” 

“No. I didn’t.” 

“Josh.” 

“What? I didn’t!” 

****************************

“Oh my God, I LOVE this bedroom!” 

“It IS a nice bedroom.” 

“And the floors! Look at the floors!” 

“A very nice color, indeed.” 

“And this fireplace! This is gorgeous! Can’t you just picture us curling up in front of a fire in this?” 

“I guess.” 

“I’d have my own closet.” 

“That’s a definite plus.” 

“And the master bath has a deep claw foot tub.” 

“I have no idea what that means, but whatever.” 

“It’s perfect.” 

“Almost.” 

“Almost? How can you say that?” 

“Look out the window.” 

“I’m looking.” 

“Look straight across to the next house.” 

“I don’t see...OH MY GOD! Fat naked guy!” 

“Maybe we can get blinds.” 

“I need to scrub my eyes out!” 

“Maybe he’s just visiting.” 

“Maybe this house isn’t ours.” 

*********************************

“I think I know this house.” 

“How could you know this house?” 

“Donna, I swear to God, I’ve been here before.” 

“When?” 

“I’m not sure. Give me a few minutes.” 

“What are the chances of that?” 

“Pretty good. I’ve lived in this town for 20 years.” 

“But come on, this is Georgetown.” 

“So?” 

“How could you know this house?” 

“I totally do. Give me a minute. It’ll come to me.” 

“I still don’t think you know this house.” 

“Oh.” 

“Oh? What do you mean oh?” 

“We can go now.” 

“What?” 

“We’re done; let’s go.” 

“Who’s house is this?” 

“Nobody’s. Let’s go.” 

“Josh!” 

“Sara Wessinger’s.” 

“Oh, ick!” 

“Oh, I don’t remember ickiness.” 

“You said you didn’t sleep with her!” 

“I told MANDY I didn’t sleep with her. I wanted her to stop yelling at me.” 

“We should check the closet for your smoking jacket.” 

“We can really leave now.” 

*********************************

“Josh.” 

“Shh! Don’t say anything! It’ll hear you!” 

“It’ll hear me?” 

“The house will hear you and something will go wrong.” 

“So you feel it, too?” 

“Feel what?” 

“That this is it.” 

“That what is it?” 

“This! This house! This is it!” 

“Stop!! I told you NOT to say that!” 

“Sorry.” 

“I am getting an odd feeling.” 

“Odd like creepy?” 

“No. Odd like nice.” 

“Odd like nice? What’s that mean? What does that feel like?” 

“Home.” 

TBC


	13. Learning to Navigate

DONNA’S POV 

 

“Okay.” I say to the designer before me. These guys are making me nuts today. “The thing is, Mrs. Santos is hot.” Helen’s eyes go wide and she blushes. Annabeth giggles. A secret service agent clears his throat and the designer looks like he’s looking for a hole in the floor to swallow him up. 

“She is not some frumpy First Lady.” I continue. “This is beautiful; but this is Abbey Bartlet. In fact, I think you should call her. I’m sure she’ll take this off your hands. Mrs. Santos is young. I don’t want her to be made to look older. I want her hip. I want her to look her age. I want her to look like an active mother and the glamourous Hostess of America when she needs to be. But I don’t want to hide her in frump.” 

“I don’t know about hot, Donna.” Helen says softly leaning closer to me. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. You have a figure women kill for. You should show it off. Ask any man, they’ll tell you you’re hot. I’d asked Agent Walker here, but if he tells the truth, he’ll get fired. I don’t want you dressing trampy or unclassy, but you’re not a Lady Bird First Lady, you’re a Jackie First Lady.” 

“Nice analogy.” Annabeth nods. 

“I don’t want to look...unseemly.” Helen hedges. 

“You won’t.” Annabeth assures. “We’ll make sure of that.” 

“Okay.” I say rising out of my chair. “I think we’re done here. You,” I point my finger to the designer. “come back Wednesday and bring stuff that doesn’t look like it’s mother-of-the-bride-wear. We want classy and stylish. You dress people for the freaking Oscars, for crying out loud.” 

“We’re done?” Helen asks wide eyed at me taking charge. 

“Oh, not remotely.” Annabeth says rising too. 

“What are we doing now?” Helen asks. 

“We’re going to the mall.” 

*********************************** 

JOSH’S POV 

I haven’t been able to reach Donna all afternoon. She hasn’t been in her office and her schedule doesn’t have anything. To bump my paranoia up a notch, apparently her cell phone is sitting on her desk. If Jack Reese hadn’t just left my office, I think I’d be a total basketcase. 

I keep telling myself to calm the hell down for crying out loud. I’m doing an okay job of it, but it’s not like her to leave her cell phone behind. She’s NEVER done that. She’s never left me without a way to reach her. I mean, even when she left me, she left the psycho temp her cell phone number. 

Just as I’m going through nightmares in my head and scenarios of exploding Suburbans, she breezes through my door and is loaded down with shopping bags. 

“Where the hell have you been?” I demand. It’s okay. She’s used this ridiculous side of me. 

She holds up the bags in answer but says, “Consulting NASA on a few items on the First Lady’s agenda.” 

“You blew off work to go shopping?” 

“No. I was working.” 

“What?” 

“The First Lady. We took her shopping.” 

“We?” 

“Me and Annabeth.” 

“Why?” 

“I’m in charge of her image. I don’t want her to look frumpy.” She shrugs as Annabeth glides in and drops multiple bags on the couch where Donna had just laid hers. 

“I’m not even going to pretend to know what that means.” I say. 

“Lady Bird Johnson was frumpy.” Annabeth smiles. “Helen Santos is hot, Josh.” 

“Hot?” I squeak . Well, yeah, she is, but I’ll never say that out loud. 

“Hot.” Donna and Annabeth say together. 

“So her clothes are in MY office?” 

“Oh no. Those are Donna’s.” Annabeth smiles and leaves my office as my eyes bug out of my head. 

“What happened to the girl on a budget?” 

“She got a raise.” I smile. “She’s got a bigger budget now.” 

“I guess so.” I say. 

“So, can I keep them in here until we leave tonight and they can go in the car?” 

“What’s wrong with your enormous office?” 

“The secret service doesn’t come to get me, and it’s their car.” she counters. 

“I don’t know why you’re even bothering to ask.” I sigh. 

“I don’t know either.” she shrugs and I smile. She’s letting go. Each day, my Donna comes back a little bit more. Blatantly taking over my life and not giving a shit what I think of that, that’s my Donna. 

She turns to leave and I stop her. 

“Well, while you were out supporting the economy,” I start and she rolls her eyes at me. “I actually needed to get in touch with you.” 

“Really?” she asks interested. 

“We got the house.” I smile. 

A huge smile breaks out across her face and she throws her arms around my neck in delight. She pulls back and there’s pure elation on her face. THIS people is what made me kiss her the first time. The way her face lights up with joy and her eyes sparkle. She casts off a warmth that surrounds me and leaves me breathless. 

But not breathless enough to not kiss her, you see. 

So, I do. And it’s just as amazing as the first time. 

“That place is incredible!” she says tipping her forehead against mine and linking our hands. 

“I know.” 

“Three bedrooms AND a separate office downstairs.” 

“I don’t know. I like the floor to ceiling windows.” 

“The secret service won’t.” 

“Well, I’m sure they’ll do some window renovation with the glass.” 

“That sort of puts a damper on the mood.” she says. 

“Well, everything they did to my apartment, they’re going to have to do to the house. The surveillance, the bullet proof windows, they’ll probably add a secret room somewhere.” 

“That’s covert.” 

“Well...yeah.” 

“If they mess up my beautiful hardwood floors they’ll have to answer to me.” 

“I think that’ll actually scare Ron Butterfield.” 

“We should celebrate.” 

“Oh, we will.” I assure with a wicked grin and she smacks my arm and pulls away. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy.” 

“I looked this way after you kissed me for the first time. Why do you think I avoided you all morning?” 

“I thought it was because you were freaked out.” 

“Freaked out wasn’t until later. I couldn’t get the grin off my face.” 

Well, now I’VE got a stupid grin on my face. 

“Okay. We’ll celebrate.” I smile. 

“You bet your cute ass we will.” she tosses over her shoulder and saunters out of my office. 

Oh dear Lord, is it remotely near time to go home yet? 

TBC


	14. Learning to Navigate

JOSH’S POV 

I’m just about to buzz Donna to come over to leave when Mrs. Santos pops her head into my office from her husband’s. 

“Josh?” 

“Yes, ma’am?” 

“I just wanted to tell you that Donna is amazing.” 

“Yes, ma’am, she is.” 

“Helen.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“You don’t want to know WHY I think she’s amazing?” 

“Well, I think she’s amazing, so I just kind of assume everyone else does, too.” 

“She’s taking the stuffiness and ickiness out of being First Lady.” Helen smiles. 

“The shopping?” 

“I haven’t felt like myself in my own skin for years, Josh.” Helen continues and I can’t help but smile. Donna’s always made me feel that way, too. “I had no idea that my ‘image’ didn’t have to be so boring. I just thought I was sentenced to four years of power suits and ball gowns, but Donna’s showed me that I don’t have to be that way. I didn’t want to lose who I was, and she understands that, and she’s really helping me.” 

“Well, that’s fantastic.” I smile genuinely. She’s unknowingly giving me a little insight into what was going on in Donna’s head the past year. 

“Thank you for not putting up too big of a fight when I stole her.” 

“Well, it was almost my undoing because I’m really not used to working without her by my side, but you really did me a favor there.” I say in return. 

“I did think about that at the time.” she smiles and I’m actually filled with dread because I think a new leader of the Sisterhood has emerged. 

“I’m not surprised.” I smirk. 

“You should marry that girl.” 

“I will one day.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes.” 

“Does SHE know that?” 

“Not yet.” 

“Do you have a ring?” 

“No, not yet. We’re not really at that point yet.” 

“You’re buying a house.” she notes. 

“Yes.” 

“So, in nine years you’ll get married, and nine years later you’ll have kids?” 

“Have you been digging around on us?” 

“I didn’t have to dig, I just asked my Chief of Staff.” 

“I’m sure things will move a little more quickly now, ma’am.” 

“Helen.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“If I make my husband make it an Executive Order for everyone around here to stop the ma’am-ing, will it work?” 

“Probably not, ma’am.” 

“Why call me ma’am at all?” 

“You’re the First Lady. It’s a position that demands respect. Being First Lady isn’t easy.” 

“Well...I can’t believe you just said that.” 

“Just because I’m your husband’s Chief of Staff, doesn’t mean I don’t have an appreciation for what you have to do and go through, as well. Nobody elected you, yet the entire country will listen to what you have to say, criticize your every move, and you live in a fish bowl.” 

“Wow.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Well, okay then.” 

She looks truly shocked I said something like that as she leaves my office and returns to her husband’s. Quite frankly, sometimes I think being First Lady is harder than being President. The protocol that goes into that position is ridiculous. It made Abbey Bartlet nuts, and I’m sure it’ll push Helen Santos to the edge, too. I’m glad Donna’s trying to loosen the image up a bit. I just hope it doesn’t, you know, blow up in her face. 

********************************

DONNA’S POV 

“Donnatella and Joshua, you never used to be all kissy face when you came here.” Marcello says greeting us at the table with a bottle of Chianti. 

“Well, because we weren’t hiding out.” Josh says leaning back in his chair and looking up at Marcello. 

“You keep telling yourself that.” Marcello says with an obvious wink at me. 

“Hey! I’m sitting right here!” Josh objects. 

“You get her all to yourself now.” Marcello says. 

“He’s had him all to himself for years.” His wife Rose says showing up with glasses. “We always hoped you two would come in here and be kissy face. We wanted a secret to hide for you. And Joshua, you were just so cute in People.” 

“Thank you, Rose.” Josh says rolling his eyes. “How about last week when I was in Newsweek? Was I cute then, too?” 

“Newsweek!” she shrieks. “I don’t read that political stuff. You come in here and tell me what I have to know.” 

“I wish the rest of the country would follow your example.” Josh smirks. 

“We’re celebrating.” I say jumping into the conversation. 

“Celebrating finally being kissy face?” Marcello says. 

“You know, you could have been kissy face in here. We wouldn’t have said anything. We’re Italian; we protect our family.” Rose chides with a finger wave. 

“We really weren’t kissy -- nothing was happening before.” Josh says. “But if it was, I promise, this is where we would have hid out.” 

Well isn’t he the consummate politician? Marcello and Rose are totally happy to hear that. 

“What are you celebrating? A baby? We should take this Chianti away.” Rose says reaching for the bottle and I choke on my water. 

“No baby.” Marcello concludes, putting the bottle of wine back on the table. He looks extremely disappointed. 

“We bought a house.” Josh says with a chuckle. 

“A big one?” Rose asks. 

“It’s got four bedrooms.” Josh shrugs. 

“Three for kids.” Marcello says giving his wife a knowing look. 

“Six kids!” Rose squeals clapping her hands. 

SIX!! Is she insane! 

“Six!” I yelp. 

“Two kids to a room. No?” Rose asks. 

“No.” Josh is full on laughing now. How can he not find this conversation mortifying? 

“Hmm.” This earned us a very disapproving look from Rose. “Marcello, let’s go get their food. Maybe after they drink the Chianti, they’ll change their minds.” 

They disappear into the kitchen and Josh and I look at each other and crack up. 

“There’s nobody here tonight.” I say looking around. 

“I asked for it that way.” He says sheepishly. When Joshua wants to bring the woo, he can REALLY bring the woo. And he doesn’t even have to try. Yo Yo Ma begins to play out of the speakers for the house stereo and he stands up and offers me down his hand. I, of course, accept the dance. 

“Did it cost you an arm and a leg to buy the place out tonight?” I smile as we slowly dance around the empty room. Josh and I actually dance quite well together, thank you very much. 

“No, actually.” he confesses. “I tried to, but as soon as I asked, he told me they wanted to do it for us.” 

“Well, they’ve been waiting a long time for us to be kissy face.” I smile. 

“We shouldn’t let them down.” he whispers before capturing my lips. 

“Oh, Joshua! You want six kids, you have to kiss her bigger than that!” Rose pipes up walking in with our bread basket, and Josh and I dissolve into giggles. 

TBC


	15. Learning to Navigate

JOSH’S POV 

“Josh.” Carol says walking into my office. 

“Yeah.” I say not looking up from my desk. She doesn’t answer right away. “Yeah?” I ask again finally looking up, just in time to see Sam walk in the room. I see behind him that people are running in the corridors and the noise level seems to be elevated. 

Suddenly, I feel the tension in the air and I’m brought back to the worse day of my life two years ago. 

“Josh.” Sam says simply. 

Somehow I know. I just know. The First Lady had a luncheon this afternoon and now everybody is running in the halls. 

“What happened to her, Sam?” I ask softly. And why the HELL am I the last one to know? 

My door to the Oval Office opens. Ronna is there motioning me in, but I can’t move. 

“Josh.” Carol says more forcefully and I tamp down the bitter taste of adrenaline in my mouth and blink my eyes back into focus. I don’t bother with my jacket. I doubt the President will notice now anyway. I walk through the connecting door and Sam follows me, closing it behind him. Ron Butterfield is in there, too. 

“A car ran the light at 14th and Massachusetts.” Ron says. The President sits down at his desk and rubs his chin. “It hit the First Lady’s motorcade going about 45 miles an hour.” 

“It hit the motorcade or their car?” Sam asks. Good question. Need clarification. 

“Their car.” Ron says. 

“How are they?” the President asks. 

“It just happened five minutes ago.” Ron says. “They haven’t been taken from the scene yet. The agents there said the First Lady and Ms. Moss are both conscious and appear to have relatively non-serious injuries.” 

“What the hell does that mean?” I demand. 

“It means they don’t have anything that appears to be life threatening.” 

“Says the secret service!” I shout. “Where are they going?” 

“GW, Josh.” Ron says calmly. “The motorcade is out front.” 

The President and I are now sprinting the corridors with Sam and Ronna in tow. We move through the lobby and I’m stopped by a t.v. showing the accident. There’s a mangled Suburban. Suddenly, I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I can’t blink my eyes. I’m jerked away from the t.v. and shoved in the limo. Sam climbs in behind me. I’m not even wearing a jacket. 

The ride to GW by Presidential motorcade, and one that’s hauling ass no less, is incredibly short. The ER is insanity. And it’s now Sam that’s frozen in place, but I have no idea why. Medical staff is moving patients quickly around and trying not to stare at the President of the United States demanding information. 

“They’re not here yet, sir.” Ron says. 

“We beat them?” I ask. 

“They should be arriving...” 

But the commotion of an ambulance pulling up to the ER doors and the shouting and hustling of the ER staff finishes his sentence. The paramedics nearly plow Sam down, who seems to be in a daze. I see blonde hair. Who’s blonde head is it? I can’t see her face, but I can tell by the hair shade, it’s not Donna. 

“Annabeth!” Ronna calls out and runs to the side of the gurney. 

Dammit! 

“Sam?” I ask looking over at my friend. 

“It looks exactly like the night of shooting.” he says nearly in a trance. “That nurse was even still here.” He says pointing to someone I can’t see. She must have hurried on. 

“Really?” I ask turning around. All I saw of this ER that night were the ceiling tiles. I can’t dwell on that though, I have pacing to do. Another ambulance pulls up and a stretcher is wheeled in. I can tell by the lack of secret service it’s Donna and the damn thing nearly runs me over when I jump in front of it. 

“Donna!” 

“Josh?” she calls out. She’s immobilized, just like I was. Just like she was two years ago... 

“Donna.” I say nearly breathless, as I finally come face to face with her. Would you believe she’s SMILING at me? She’s fully immobilized and strapped to a stretcher and she’s smiling at me. 

“Who’s the President of the United States?” the doctor asks her. I can see a huge red welt on her forehead now. 

“Helen Santos.” Donna smiles back as the President appears on the other side of the stretcher. The doctors exchange looks. 

“Donnatella, do NOT be snarky right now!” I snap. 

“Might be that guy.” she says and gestures as much as she can to the President. Looking back later on, I can’t say I blame her. It really was a stupid question to ask actually IN the presence of the President of the United States. They couldn’t ask her what day it was instead? 

“Are you all right, Donna?” the President replies. 

“Yes, sir.” she replies. “And so is Mrs. Santos. Well, I think she hurt her leg. They hit on her side, but she was sitting in the middle of the seat.” 

The President breaths a deep breath and nods his head. “Thank you, Donna.” 

The stretcher moves again and I move with it into an exam room. Way back in the depths of my mind, I’m vaguely aware of medical staff talking about single bullet wounds, collapsed lungs, decreased breath sounds, trauma one, pulse ox is going down...down... 

They move Donna from the stretcher to the bed and I move to her head, desperate to keep eye contact with her. A doctor sticks a pen light in her eyes and moves away. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see her hands come up, up, over her head and they land clumsily on my cheeks. She gently tugs me forward until I’m right above her, looking in her eyes upside down. 

“I’m okay, Josh.” she whispers. One of these nurses, I’m sure, will later tell a story to their friends that they saw the Chief of Staff of the United States cry right there in the ER, but I don’t give a shit. 

“Swear to me.” I whisper in a voice that sounds like I swallowed rocks. 

“I swear.” she smiles back. 

“What hurts?” 

“My head and then the rest of me is just achy. I smacked my head on the side of the interior when the car hit.” 

“Sir, you should wait outside.” someone says to me. 

“No.” I say firmly. 

“Sir.” the voice says again. 

“If he leaves, I’ll sign a medical release and walk out of here.” Donna threatens. I don’t know if she’s demanding this for her, or me, or both of us, but I love her for it. 

“It’s fine.” the doctor nods to the nurse. Of course it’s fine! If it weren’t, Tucker here would take them out to the hall to explain a few things. A nurse that looks familiar to me comes up and gives me a stool. My knees give out in reaction and I’m seated right at her head as they ask her questions and the doctors begin to take the straps to the back board off. 

“No back or neck pain?” the doctor asks. 

“They’re a little sore, but not really. I was jerked to the side when the car hit.” Donna says. It’s possible I might throw up. The smashed up Suburban is mixed up in my head with an overturned one now. The doctor pulls the head chucks away and I reach my right hand around, searching for her hand. She sees me and grasps it firmly. I take a deep breath and rest my chin down next to her head, squinting my eyes tightly against the voices around me and the thoughts in my head trying to push themselves to the surface. Thoughts like single gunshot wound, left fifth intercostal space. Random things stick out in my mind. 

“Where’s Sam?” she asks. 

“I don’t know. Out there in the ER somewhere having a meltdown.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Who’s running the country?” 

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Lou and Carol?” 

“Josh.” 

“It’s some kind of alternate universe, baby, the President and I have cell phones.” 

“Now who’s snarking?” 

“Well, actually, the President doesn’t have a cell phone, but I do.” 

“Josh.” 

“A pager, too.” 

“Josh.” 

“I love you, Donna.” 

Her eyes well up with tears and she smiles. “I love you, too.” 

“I think I actually blacked out when Sam and Carol walked into my office.” I confess. 

“Too many rectangles.” she says and I smile. It’s the first time that’s ever come up between us since the night I interviewed Joe Quincy and someone shot at the White House. 

“S’okay, Josh.” she whispers at me, looking me right in the eye. 

“I’m not so sure.” I whisper back. 

“It is.” she says firmly. 

“Don’t worry about me.” 

“What else am I going to do?” 

“Okay, Donna.” the doctor says. “We’re going to roll you off this backboard, get you changed and bring you for x-rays, an MRI and a CT scan.” 

“What?” I yelp. “Why?” 

“She hit her head, Mr. Lyman. It’s what we do when patients have been in a car accident.” the doctor explains. 

Oh. Okay then. 

“Can he come with me?” she asks. 

The doctor looks at me and then Tucker. He must decide it’s not worth the argument because he consents. “But he’s got to wait out in the hall.” 

I guess that’s better than nothing. 

The medical staff files out of the room and a nurse hands me a hospital gown. “You can help her get changed.” she says before disappearing and leaving us alone. I stare down at the garment in my hand. I know exactly what this is going to look like on her.... “Her CT revealed a blood clot in her lung.”... 

“Josh?” she asks cautiously. 

“You can’t go in there, Donna.” 

“What?” 

“You can’t get this done.” 

“Why?” 

“You just...” I trail off. I’m not making any sense. How can I make her understand? CT scans show bad things. She should know this. But then again, she didn’t have to hear it. 

“JOSH!” 

I shake my head and look over at her. She’s looking at me like she’s been calling my name for a while. 

She reaches her hand out and it’s warm when I take it and she pulls me to the bed. 

“Come here.” she says softly and I lower myself down next to her. “I’m not scared. I’m okay.” 

“You were okay the last time, too.” 

“Baby, listen to me. If I go, I’ll take you with me.” 

I squint my eyes and furrow my forehead at her. “Donna, that’s not very comforting.” 

“I have to get these tests done. So you’ll help me put that God awful, buttless gown on, we’ll go do this thing, come back, and then you’ll take me home because I’m not staying here tonight.” 

“Donna...” 

“I’m not staying here tonight.” she insists. “I’m staying with you. We’re going back to your place, and I’m taking a bath in your enormous tub, where I may or may not let you wash my hard to reach places. But the deal’s off if you flip out on me.” 

I take a deep breath and look at her. “I love you.” I whisper. 

“I love you, too.” she smiles back, which is something she didn’t say to me the last time, but it’s enough to motivate me to help her get changed. 

Oddly, I’m not turned on at all by the sight of her mostly naked body. I can’t stop my hands from shaking as I gently fumble through the process of taking her clothes off and putting the gown on. I sit holding her hand for a while, and softly pushing the hair off her forehead until a nurse comes in to wheel her up to radiology. 

That whole thing takes roughly 45 minutes and we’re brought back down to the ER, which is much less quieter now, but I think Donna, the First Lady, and Annabeth are the only patients in here. Everyone else got booted to Memorial. 

“Josh!” 

Sam comes running up to me. He looks a lot better adjusted. 

“Hey, Sam.” 

“How is she?” 

“Ask her yourself.” I motion to the room and he pushes the door open. 

“Hi, Sam!” Donna greets from the comfort of her now inclined bed. 

“You’re all right?” Sam asks frantically. 

“I seem to be.” she nods. 

“Thank God!” he breathes out with a hand on his chest. 

“The First Lady?” Donna asks. Oh God, I haven’t even asked about Helen yet. 

“She got a nasty cut on her thigh, but she’s all right.” 

“Annabeth?” 

“Also fine.” Sam assures. 

“Are you okay to go back to the White House, Sam?” I ask him. 

“I’m MORE than okay.” Sam says quickly. I look closer at him and I see he’s shaking, too. 

“Sam.” Donna says and holds out her hand to him. He steps over and takes it and I see her squeeze his hand. “We’re all okay tonight, Sam.” She’s so damn strong. I walk to the other side of the bed and sit on the side as she still holds Sam’s hand. All my energy has been deflated from my body, and I fall forward into her shoulder and let the tears come. I don’t care if Sam sees. 

She’s got one arm wrapped around me rubbing my back and the other one holding Sam’s hand. I swear to God, I’m the luckiest man alive tonight. 

TBC


	16. Learning to Navigate

JOSH’S POV 

“Joshua, maybe you could not be so...” 

“Attentive?” 

“Up my ass.” 

“Too bad.” 

“Too bad?” 

“Donna, you were just in a car accident...” 

“Where I wasn’t injured.” 

“You said you feel stiff and your head hurts.” 

“Not anymore, the pain killers took care of that.” 

“If you weren’t injured, what the hell do you need pain killers for?” Ah ha! Take that! 

“Joshua, what about my plan? Remember, I just wanted come home tonight and take a nice long bath -- what the hell are you smiling about?” 

I can’t help it. I’m trying not to smile this much, but...well, I can’t help it. 

“No reason.” I shrug with a big grin. 

“Josh.” she gives me her warning tone. All right fine. 

“You said you wanted to come ‘home,’ and we’re at my place, and I like that you think of here as home.” 

She gets a huge smile on her face. I love when I put that smile there. She really is beautiful when she smiles. 

She walks up to me and I arch a brow at her. “Home is where you are, Josh.” she whispers and starts to kiss my neck. Now I don’t know whether to grin or moan. 

“How about that nice warm bubble bath?” she offers. Um...naked, wet, Donna and she has to ASK?? 

“Do I get to help with the hard to reach places?” 

“Was there ever really any question?” she counters. Okay, I guess not. 

“And then you’ll rest?” 

“I’m not hurt.” 

“Donna.” It’s a half whine, half do-what-I-say-or-I’ll-figure-out-a-way-to-make-you tone. 

“I will if you will.” she counters. I sigh. I’m trying to sound annoyed by her trying to handle me while I’m trying to handle her, but she’s undressing me now for that bath, and it’s hard to get annoyed at her when I know momentarily I’ll be seeing her naked. 

It used to be that I got distracted by thoughts of wondering what she looked like naked; now, I get distracted by the actual knowing of what Donna looks like naked. Amazing how much can change in nine years, yet, nothing at all does. 

I’m half dressed, and she’s fully dressed still, which doesn’t seem remotely fair, and she disappears into the bathroom where I hear the tub water start. I’m immediately mobilized to the bathroom where she’s now half undressed, too. Donna has an amazing body. Donna has an amazing everything really. 

We take the rest of our clothes off and get into the warm tub water. I try not to bitch about the fact that Donna added bubbles and I’m going to smell like a girl. She likes them. She sinks against me and closes her eyes as my arms come tight around her. I’m more interesting in holding her tightly at the moment than I am getting the hard to reach places....for now. 

I know I didn’t completely wig out today, but I didn’t handle it too well either. But it’s Donna and she IS my Achilles heel. And not having to suppress feelings I think is more draining than suppressing them. I run my hands up and down her arms and she sighs softly. I smile a bit to myself. I think she’s falling asleep. I push her hair out of her face and put a soft kiss on the bump on her forehead. It doesn’t look all that bad, but it reminds me of what could have been and what once was. But strangely, as I think that thought, I don’t taste the adrenaline that normally accompanies it. 

I let her sleep against me until the water starts to get cold, then nudge her awake. I’d carry her to the bed, if I could figure out the logistics of getting her out of this tub. She gives me a sleepy smile but cooperates and I help her stand up. Once we’re out the tub, I wrap her in a big fluffy bathrobe that someone got me six years ago when I was recovering and she’s the only one that ever used. And lay her gently in bed. I come back to the bed, dry off and get dressed in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. I was just about to head into the living room when her voice stops me. 

“Josh?” 

“Yeah?” I say softly walking to the bed. 

“You’re not coming to bed?” 

I hesitate for a second. “I was going to stay up for a while.” 

“We had a deal.” she pouts. She rolls out of bed and pulls pajamas out of the bottom dresser drawer. I sigh and glance away as she gets dressed. If I look at her now, I’ll want to do things to her amazing body, which is only bad in that I’ll feel like shit later when she says her body aches when the pain meds wear off. 

“I’m just not tired yet.” I say. 

“Well, then I’ll stay awake with you.” It would have been a stoic comment, had she not yawned right at the end of it. 

“Donna, you’re about to drop. Just go to bed.” I argue waving to the bed. 

She looks at me a long moment. I think a showdown is starting. 

“Josh.” she says simply. 

“What?” 

“Whether you go to sleep now with me, or you go to sleep in two days when you drop will not make the slightest bit of difference if you’re going to have a nightmare.” 

Damn, I hate that about her. Her and her tuned to me thing sometimes is a pain in the ass. In situations like this, it was easier when we were out of sync for the last year. 

“I don’t think I can handle one tonight after what happened today.” 

“I know you can. And maybe you won’t have one.” 

“Not likely.” I scoff. 

“Josh.” she says again and holds out her hand to me. When I take her hand, she links her fingers with mine and pulls me to her. “You are now my prisoner.” 

“That sounds kinky.” 

“It would, you sickie.” she smiles. “The prisoner is coming to bed.” 

“Donna, you really need to stop this kind of talk or...” 

“I could go home and get my equipment?” She gives me her innocent face and I have a sudden vision of her in a Catholic school girl uniform. Yeah, she’s right, I’m a sickie. 

I groan and roll into the bed and she follows me, immediately burrowing up against my side. I sigh heavily and it doesn’t take her long to fall asleep, but I lay awake for a while staring at the ceiling. 

TBC


	17. Learning to Navigate

DONNA’S POV 

There’s something to be said about kissing. There’s something about good ol’ get back to the basics kissing. A kiss that makes your toes curl; a kiss that makes your knees buckle; a kiss that makes your stomach flip. And when he pulls away, a kiss that makes you sigh. 

That’s what I just got from my man. He walked into my office, pulled me out of my chair and proceeded to kiss the stuffing out of me. 

“What was that for?” I smile. 

“I need a reason?” 

“No. But I’m sure you have one.” 

“Happy anniversary.” he grins. 

“Anniversary?” I reply as my assistant brings in an enormous floral bouquet. “It’s February, it’s not --” he grins at me and I cut myself off. “I don’t believe it.” 

“What? I wonder who those flowers are from.” 

“Mean man that CAN read a calendar.” 

“For reasons far surpassing my understanding, you choose to believe that THIS particular date is our anniversary.” 

“It is.” 

“Where’s my present then?” 

“Coming in April on the day your deluded mind thinks is our anniversary.” I shoot back. 

“That is our anniversary.” 

“It’s not; it’s today.” I insist. 

“Today’s something different.” 

“What’s today?” 

“The day I fell in love.” 

“Really? Then what’s April?” 

“The day I knew it’d be forever.” 

Hmm...that was a good one. 

“You’re so full of shit.” I laugh smacking his arm. 

“It’s true!” 

“It is not. Today is not the day you fell in love with me. It’s the day we met.” 

“Listen, you came through the door and started answering my phone, took over my office and my life. In the nine years that you have known me, do you seriously believe I would let any woman do that to me? It was totally love.” 

“It totally wasn’t, but that was a nice try.” 

“Fine.” he huffs. “It was April that I fell in love with you.” 

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” I chuckle. 

“I was something today.” 

“Ensorcelled.” I say. 

“I was.” 

“Didn’t last long.” 

“It lasted nine years!” 

“It lasted precisely until Mandy rejoined the campaign.” 

“Why, why, WHY did you have to go there!” 

“Sorry, baby.” 

“Now, I’m stuck with that in my head.” he grumbles. 

“Well, we can’t have that.” I say in a husky whisper, and it’s my turn to kiss him stupid. 

Now, this was supposed to be my kiss. I was the one that instigated it, but he’s taken over, and it’s gone back to that foot popping, cloud nine kind of thing. 

The man is working some serious mojo on me today. 

He pulls away again and I’m smiling. 

“Maybe it was ensorcellment, but I swear by the end of that day, I wanted to kiss you like that.” he says softly. 

“You really should have.” I grin. “I would have gone to work for CJ in a second.” 

“Nah.” he says shaking his head. “I’m glad we’ve got the history we do. I mean, I’m not glad about all of it, but everything would have been different if you worked for someone else.” 

“Yeah, it probably would have been.” I smile back. 

My assistant enters the room and he moves away from me. I go and sit behind my desk as she hands me a stack of messages. Once she’s gone, he comes around to my side and sits on my desk. 

“How come you can sit on my desk, but Amy can’t sit on your desk?” I ask. 

“I’m sorry. Did you want Amy sitting on my desk?” 

“No.” 

“So what’s the problem?” 

“I’m just wondering what the difference is.” 

“The difference is I’m Chief of Staff and there’s one desk in this entire building that I can’t sit on and it’s not yours.” 

“Whatever.” I reply. 

His eye catches something on my desk and I immediately know what it is. He leans over and picks up the small molted calf book he gave me seven years ago. 

“I can’t believe this isn’t, like, in a box somewhere.” he smiles opening it up. 

“It’s always been on my desk.” I shrug. 

“Really?” 

“Since the day you gave it to me.” 

He opens it up and smiles softly as he reads what he wrote. “God, I was kind of obvious back then, huh?” 

“I’m sure not any more than I was.” I smile throwing him a bone. “Besides, it meant a lot.” 

“Well, it means a lot that you keep it close.” 

“I’ll admit that I was going to donate it last year in a fit of anger. So I went online to research what I could get for it.” I see him go red. He’s so busted. “When I found out what it was worth...plus, I remembered what it was worth to me...” 

He puts it back in its place on my desk and turns away quickly, my suspicion is he could use a moment to regroup. 

“Well, I didn’t want to get you something that either sat down in your storage room and got dusty, or you hocked when you discovered you didn’t like skiing.” he smirks, leaning back up against my desk. 

“It was perfect.” I whisper. 

“Well, it was for you, it had to be.” 

*************************************

JOSH’S POV 

“Joshua Lyman, I am going to SHRED you!” Donna announces storming into my office during morning staff. Well, that wasn’t designed to give me a warm fuzzy feeling. Sam, Otto, Lou, Bram, Lester, and even Amy are all in my office looking at me curiously. 

“Good morning.” I smile to my delectable girlfriend. 

“Should we...” Sam asks hooking a finger to the door. 

“No.” I say. Donna’s eyes widen slightly. Hey, she started this. She didn’t wait to see who was in here. And I’m pretty sure I know what this is about. 

“$120 million for computers in classrooms.” Donna lists. Yup. I know where this is going. “$50 million for bilingual teachers in inner city schools.” Sam cringes. He knows where it’s going now, too. “Forty-five million dollars for autism.” There it is! 

“Yes.” I say. 

“What the hell?” 

“I’m trying to get Baker passed. I have to roll over on some things. It’s not a no, it’s a not now.” I say. 

“Really?” she asks. “And is that what the First Lady is supposed to tell Oprah on Friday when she makes her first televised appearance?” 

“She’s supposed to not talk about it.” I reply. 

“She’s not good at lying and she’s not good at spin.” Donna says. 

“Actually,” Lou pipes in and Donna and I turn our attention to her. “In that vein, we pulled the Oprah appearance.” 

Oh shit. 

“I’m sorry?” Donna asks Lou, crossing her arms and turning to her full glare on her. 

“I pulled the Oprah appearance.” Lou repeats. “She’s not good at lying and she’s not good at spin, and she has come out in the press in favor of all of those things. So my office thought the most prudent thing to do there would be not to put her in a position where she’d have to lie, try to spin, or just all out makes us look bad.” 

Oh dear God. 

“All out makes you look bad?” Donna repeats. Lou shrugs. Lou’s not afraid of Donna, and that’s great, but I think she needs to learn to play a little nicer with the East Wing. This is now coming home with me tonight. 

Donna turns back to me. She throws a glance at Sam that clearly says she knows he weighed in on this, which he did, then levels her glare on me. I don’t like this Donna glare. 

“I hope Stackhouse filibusters your ass again.” she says, then turns on her heel and stomps out. 

Yeah, this is coming home with me tonight. 

“Who wants my life?” I ask the room at large. 

“Well, does Donna come with it?” Bram asked. 

“No.” I say simply. 

“Then I’ll pass.” he says. I shoot him a glare and he sinks further into the couch. 

******************************** 

DONNA’S POV 

Of all the dumb ass, hot headed... 

“Donna!” comes a voice behind me. I turn around and I’m more than a little surprised to see Amy hurrying toward me. She must have snuck out of Josh’s office right after I left. I raise my eyebrow as I watch her approach. 

“Call Stackhouse.” she says. 

“I’m sorry?” I ask. I take orders from the Legislative Director, who happens to be my boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend? 

“Call Stackhouse. Tell him the First Lady wants to co-sponsor the bill with him.” 

“I don’t know if the First Lady is ready to...” 

“Then make her ready. I worked for Stackhouse. He’s a good man. Tell him you want to co-sponsor the bill, you’ll help him with the leg work. If it’s stuff the First Lady believes in, she should go for it, and she should announce it on Oprah. It’ll help Stackhouse get what he wants, it’ll give the First Lady the visibility she needs, and it’ll avoid a filibuster. Everyone will win.” Amy says. 

Huh. I never thought I’d live to see THIS day. Amy helping me? And this makes sense, too. Other than circumventing the Communications Office, I don’t see where I get in trouble here. 

“I’ll take it to the First Lady.” I say casually. 

Amy gives me a....rather interesting smile. “You’ll do really well over there, Donna.” She turns and walks back towards Josh’s office. 

Okay. That was really bizarre. 

TBC


	18. Learning to Navigate

JOSH’S POV 

“Donnatella Moss!” I call as I throw the door to my apartment open. I’m ready to tear her a new one for the stunt she pulled today, but I’m stopped dead by what greets me in the living room. Or more aptly put, by what doesn’t greet me. There’s next to no furniture in here. “Donna?” I call a little more concerned. 

I move into the apartment and start hunting around. I come to the office/room-I-keep-all-my-random-shit in, and she’s running on the treadmill. She’s flushed, and sweaty, and I’m really turned on right now. 

“Whatcha doing?” 

She pulls the ear phones to her iPod out and looks at me. 

“What?” she pants. Oh, I can make her pant harder than that. 

“What are you doing?” 

“It would appear that I’m working out.” 

Yeah, I’m still in trouble. But not nearly as much trouble as she’s in. 

“Don’t you normally go to the gym on Wednesdays?” 

“Yes, but I had to wait for the guys to come pick up the furniture, so I couldn’t get there tonight.” 

“You gave away my living room furniture?” 

“In my defense, I gave away mine, too.” 

“To who?” 

“Whom. The Salvation Army. Your bedroom furniture goes tomorrow.” 

“What the hell are we going to sleep on?” 

“The new bed.” 

“A new bed?” 

“I got rid of my bed, too.” 

“Why?” 

“I want a bed that no one has slept with you in, but me.” 

Okay. That makes me grin. But wait, I’m pissed at her. 

“Why are you running so fast?” 

“It’s a work out.” 

“That fast?” 

“No. I’m running this fast to try and burn off some of my anger. This is for YOUR physical well being.” 

“Well, if that’s your theory, then you might want to finish up, so I can get on it.” I shoot back. She powers down the treadmill and looks at me. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Please. You didn’t think I’d have ten kinds of issues with your stunt this morning?” 

“My STUNT?” she asks. 

“I run the White House; I run the President’s agenda. YOU do not circumvent it.” 

“I didn’t circumvent anything! You pulled the first thing that the First Lady believed in. You yanked off the table the first thing that got her motivated. She can’t figure out what the hell her point is around that freaking place if when she shows interest in something, the West Wing stomps all over it.” 

“THAT is not what happened and you know it.” 

“That’s not how it looks to her.” 

“It’s your job to explain to her the difference.” 

“No, it’s not, Josh. It’s my job to make what she wants happen. That is what I did. You took that stuff off the table, we brought it to a new table.” 

“The First Lady doesn’t know the first thing about getting a bill through Congress.” 

“I don’t know if we’ve met. I’m Donna Moss; I worked for the Deputy Chief of Staff for seven years.” She snarks sticking her hand out for me. I pause a minute. She does know how a bill gets through the Congress and in this case, the Senate. And she’ll know who will give her problems and who will be on board, and who she’ll need to work over. 

“Donna...” 

“A win for the First Lady is a win for the President.” she replies. 

“A win for the First Lady is a win for the First Lady.” 

“Not in an election.” 

Damn she’s hot. 

“What happens when I have to make a deal?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Down the road. What happens if I have to kill the bill?” 

“You won’t.” she smiles. 

“Politics isn’t personal, Donna.” I reply. “This country doesn’t have a Vice President. The last time that happened, we got Walken. Something happens again, we get Haffley. Do you know what’s going to happen if I have to address Jeff Haffley as Mr. President? A Vice President comes before computers in classrooms. I don’t like it anymore than you guys do, but it’s national security and that comes first. I can’t put computers in classrooms if I can’t keep the kids safe. If I have to make a deal, then I’m making a deal.” 

She smiles coyly at me. I’m a dead man. 

“Well, you’ll do what you have to do, but I know you’ll find a way to help us in the end. Eleventh hour inspiration is your forte.” 

Well, shit. Having someone have this much faith in you is pretty scary. But, of course, she’s right. I can only imagine how crazy I’ll get when inevitably some tries to mess with her. 

“There’s still the matter of you circumventing Lou.” I shoot back. 

“The First Lady is going on Oprah. It’s her first public appearance since her husband took office. I want her visible to mothers, and housewives, and women, and that’s who watches Oprah. Lou is not going to stop me.” she turns and walks out of the room. I frown as I see she’s limping a bit. “Lou doesn’t pull the First Lady’s appearance based on what she THINKS the First Lady might say.” 

Okay. She’s got a point. That was amateur of Lou. 

“Why are you limping? What’s wrong?” 

“My leg hurts when I run on the treadmill.” she shrugs dropping into a chair at the kitchen table. 

“Why do you do it then?” I ask with an exasperated sigh. 

“Because we get better, Josh.” she smiles at me. How is it she knows just what to say to me in every situation? I sigh in defeat and drop into a chair next to her. “Your staff doesn’t need to flex their muscles with me, Josh.” 

“I know.” I sigh. “I’ll have Sam talk to them.” 

“It should come from you.” she counters. 

“Donna...” 

“It should come from you, Josh. This isn’t the campaign anymore. They need to see you, in that office, issuing orders and they need to know you’re serious. They need to understand they’re not on the campaign anymore. 

“But, I need Sam to...” 

“There will be plenty of things in the near future for Sam to take point with them on.” she says. She was ready for me when I came home tonight. That’s pretty clear now. I should have known better. Donna never fights with me without being prepared. “Right now, it needs to be you. They need to see you in action and they need to understand what it means to be called on the carpet in the principle’s office. Leo did it with you guys.” 

“And often took my legs out from under me with the staff.” 

“And so you won’t with Sam.” 

Donna knows. She knows that I want Sam to be an extension of me, like he’s supposed to be. Leo and President Bartlet often sent me into battle with no armor and no support. CJ, Toby, and even sometimes Sam often went around me on stuff. 

“Why is it,” I ask looking over to her. “that I come home pissed off at you and ready to do battle, and you talk me right down? I was mad at you before.” 

She smiles, stands up, crosses over to me and straddles my lap. “It’s my job to peel you off the ceiling.” 

“That’s not in your job description anymore.” I say resting my hands on her hips. 

“I got news for you, Joshua, it wasn’t in my job description before either.” she says right before she kisses me. 

I’m exhausted, but immediately responsive to her. I hate fighting with her. I mean, I like it when it’s bantering, but when it’s arguing like tonight, I can’t stand that. See, I’m still right. But I’m going to pick my battles with her. 

“It really can’t be me.” I say pulling away. “It’ll look like I came home, and you and I got in a fight, and I caved.” 

“It won’t look like you’ve worked in the White House for seven years, they’ve worked there for seven weeks, shut the hell up?” 

“No.” I smile. 

“Helen.” she replies. 

“What?” 

“I’ll send Helen to deal with Lou.” 

“Helen’s not as terrifying as Abbey Bartlet.” 

“Oh, I think Lou will have a different opinion tomorrow morning.” 

“All right.” I concede. It seems like a good way to get me off the hook. 

“And I’m meeting with Senator Stackhouse tomorrow.” she continues, kissing down my neck and working my tie off. 

“Uh-huh.” I say as I make my way down to her chest through her tank top. 

“Josh.” she says taking my face in her hands and forcing me to look at her. “I am meeting with Senator Stackhouse tomorrow.” 

“I have two ears.” I assure. 

“I just wanted to make sure they’re working at the moment.” 

“They are. Among other things.” 

“Yes,” she smiles shifting her position on my lap and unbuttoning my shirt. “I’m aware of that.” 

“Let’s relocate this activity.” I suggest between kisses, but not before she pushes my shirt off my shoulders. 

“Kay.” 

I stand up, and with her wrapped around my waist and torso, take us into the bedroom, with her kissing me all the while. I drop her onto the bed and wince a bit. Every time this happens, I feel old. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks. 

“Nothing.” 

“That wasn’t nothing, Josh, what’s wrong?” 

“The same thing that always bugs me, Donna.” I sigh. 

“Your side and your back?” she asks and I nod and work my way out of my pants. “C’mere.” She pulls me onto the bed on my stomach and perches on the back of my thighs. A moment later her hands start kneeding my shoulders and I groan involuntarily. 

“Why don’t you tell me when this all bugs you?” 

“Because it always bugs me and I’ve just learned to live with it.” I say in between groans. Her hands are magic. Just when I think I couldn’t possibly get more relaxed, she starts talking. Idly talking about her day, her parents phone call earlier, the inspection report on the townhouse, the other furniture she’s replacing, anything that had nothing to do with the White House. 

She rises up to her knees and nudges me to roll over. I comply with her wishes, but I’m too tired and too relaxed to open my eyes, and so I’m surprised when I feel her soft lips on my side. My eyes flutter open and she smiles softly as she begins to massage my side. 

“Donna,” I say softly. 

“Hmm?” she replies as she goes about her work. 

“I am sorry about the thing this morning.” 

“Politics isn’t personal.” she replies. 

“Still...” 

“I know you are.” she says. She leans down to me and kisses me soundly. “Feel better?” 

My eyes take a quick scan of her face before I nod and she burrows down into my side. I think all in all, today went well. It won’t be the last time this happens, and quite frankly, someone is going to try to make me screw her on this bill. But I’ll let her off the leash and see what she can do. I’ll see first hand what exactly she’s learned. 

I trace the contours of her face over and over. She sighs contentedly against my hand. 

“Light `em up, Donna.” I say softly. 

“Really?” she asks, giving me that illuminating smile of hers, and I nod. “Okay. I will.” 

I have no doubt. 

TBC


	19. Learning to Navigate

HELEN’S POV 

I glance around Lou’s office idly while I wait for her to come in this morning. One benefit of living here is you can easily beat people in to work when you want to gain the element of surprise. 

I hear her out in the bullpen barking orders and I lean casually up against her desk and wait. 

Lou’s a little too abrasive for me, but she’s good at her job. She was invaluable during the campaign and Josh and Matt just couldn’t seem to live without her in the White House, so here she is. 

But what I don’t like about Lou is the same thing I don’t like about Amy Gardner. It always seems like somehow I’m less of a woman because I wasn’t interested in clawing my way to the top in a man’s professional world. I wasn’t out to prove to all the men of Washington that I’m not to be screwed with and I’m a force to be reckoned with. I am woman, but I don’t roar. 

Donna and I are kindred spirits in this vein. It’s one of the reasons why I wanted her. Donna advanced in politics based on talent, not who she screwed over to get her job or based on who she dated. Oddly enough, Donna advanced based on who she DIDN’T date. 

Lou likes Donna; that much I’ve been able to tell from the campaign and transition. But Amy...Amy doesn’t seem to. I’m not 100 percent sure why. I mean, I know that Amy dated Josh a few years back, but why she has such a dislike for Donna is a little unclear. Yet, it was Amy who told Donna to go to Stackhouse. 

I remember during the transition time when Josh took vacation, I almost had a stroke when Matt told me Josh Lyman, political machine, Mr. I-don’t-need-a-personal-life-I’m-trying-to-get-a-man- elected-President went and got a personal life. But Amy...Amy was like apoplexy or something. She immediately lit in about how unprofessional it was for Josh to wing off to paradise during transition, and take a subordinate staffer with him, no less. Of course, watching her reaction when I told Amy that Donna was going to be my chief of staff was fun. I didn’t think her jaw could get any tighter. 

I tried to ask Sam Seaborn for a little insight into Amy’s disgust for all things Donna, but he just gave me a “You don’t want to go there, ma’am.” I’ve tried to get into it a couple of times with Donna, but she just dances around it, too. 

I remember when Matt first started campaigning with Josh. Matt and I tried to remember everything we knew about Josh, which wasn’t much. Other than the fact that it was him that got shot the night President Bartlet did, we couldn’t come up with anything. His reputation preceded him, of course, on the Hill. There he had all sorts of ridiculous nicknames: Bartlet’s Bulldog; the President’s Pitbull; the Prince of Darkness. All of which I saw no evidence of when I started to work with the man himself. 

However, he did look sad. 

Something was missing from Josh Lyman’s life. There was just no way a person could be all brains and no heart. It’s not that I didn’t think he had a heart, it’s that I thought it was broken and he wasn’t interested in putting it back together. Women would flirt with him at speeches and fundraisers and he wouldn’t show any interest. And some of them were quite whorish, if I do say so myself. 

But then Donna joined the campaign. I wasn’t there that day. I met Donna a few weeks later. I’ll never forget that day, at least as long as Josh Lyman is in my life because it was the day I saw a spark in his eyes. Something that definitely wasn’t there before. He was more driven than before. He seemed to have a greater sense of purpose. The more time I spent on the campaign, the more I began to notice there were moments when he seemed lost in thought. Then one night on the plane, I saw that it wasn’t so much that he was lost in thought, or maybe he was, too, but he was watching something. Following his wistful gaze that night, I realized it was Donna he watched. 

I thought she was oblivious to it at first; that he was just enchanted by the new girl or something, until another night on the plane just a few weeks before the election, when he was working alone in a row. She walked over to him, grabbed a blanket from the overhead compartment and sat down next to him. He gave her an interested gaze, but smirked and said something I couldn’t hear when she curled up under the blanket and propped her head on his shoulder. They stayed like that the rest of the flight. Leo had come to sit by me for a few minutes to talk about something. I don’t really remember what. I nodded over to Josh and Donna. He paused a minute and looked at them. Josh must have felt him looking at him because he looked up at Leo and held his gaze for a few moments before returning to what he was working on. All Leo said was, “Yeah, anyway...” and moved back to what he was discussing. 

At first, Josh and Donna’s relationship seemed stilted, but then I saw that there was something there. Something intimate without being sexual. It was Matt who told me that Donna used to be Josh’s assistant. So, now I knew that they had a history together. But that still seemed a little bit of odd behavior between a boss and assistant, or what used to be a boss and assistant. 

And then the election came and it was obvious they’d come on board. I mean, I suspected the morning of the election. They went from completely comfortable in each other’s presence to completely freaked out by each other’s presence. Later in the afternoon, Ronna and Edie were gossiping at having busted them. 

In the weeks that followed, Josh seemed more balanced. They were nearly inseparable in the days that followed the election and Leo’s funeral. Then they disappeared for a last minute vacation. It was while they were away that I found out Sam knew them well, so I decided to get to know Sam. I just wanted a little background on my soon-to-be Chief of Staff really. No, I did. All right, fine. I was looking for the skinny just like everybody else. 

Sam gave me some spiel about red lights. “They don’t stop for red lights,” he says. I don’t understand. What does their crappy driving have to do with whether or not they’re in love? 

Obviously, I have since found out that they are, in fact, ridiculously and adorably in love with each other. 

Lou interrupts my thoughts when she comes barreling through her office door carrying a newspaper and drinking coffee from a styrofoam cup. 

“Mrs. Santos!” she squeaks in surprise. 

“Good morning, Lou.” I sing sweetly. 

“Something I can do for you this morning?” she asks. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact.” I smile. “You could please gather Otto, Bram, and Lester in here.” 

“Well, ma’am, we have staff...” 

Oh no, Louise, that’s not going to work. 

“You’ll be late; Josh will understand.” I smile. Especially since he knows this is taking place. Donna said he wasn’t overly fond of me smacking around his staff, but apparently it was better than the alternative. He’s under the impression that it will look to the staff like Donna’s calling the shots. Myself, I think it’ll look like he talked to Donna about it like an adult and a professional and came around after he heard our side. 

“Would you like Sam, as well, ma’am?” she asks picking up her phone. 

“No. That won’t be necessary.” I smile, as I’m pretty sure he’ll be stopping by. 

We wait a few moments in silence as the other three arrive. Lou is obviously uncomfortable right now. I think she may have an inkling of what’s going on. 

Lester is the last arrive and moves to close the door. “You can leave it open, Lester.” I smile sweetly. I’m not about to deprive the support staff of this moment. I remain standing, so everyone else does, too. After all, they’re not permitted to sit in my presence unless I tell them it’s okay. In this case, I want to be on a higher level than them, so the first thing I do is order them to sit. I’ll confess, this is a move Donna told me to do. 

“I realize that I haven’t been very aggressive, both on the campaign and since we took office. But with the help of my staff, we’re currently changing that. My first public appearance is Friday on the Oprah Winfrey show. Yes, I said IS Friday and not WAS Friday. I am going ahead with the appearance, despite the fact that the communications department has concerns that I am unable to speak in complete sentences, unless they have been meticulously written out by them. On that show, I will be announcing my vigorous and enthusiastic support of a bill to be introduced by Senator Stackhouse in the coming months supporting funding of issues I believe are important.” 

Can you hear me roar NOW, Lou? 

Sam breezes into the office then. Well, timed. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Santos.” he smiles. 

“Good morning, Sam.” I reply. 

“Is there something we can do for you this morning?” Well, Sam, you can just stand there and be the eye candy that you are...oh! He’s looking for a verbal response. 

“No. I was just expressing my displeasure with the communications staff over having an appearance pulled without first discussing it with me.” I reply. 

“Yes, that was an unfortunate mistake.” Sam agrees. “I apologize for that. It won’t happen again.” 

“Thank you, Sam.” 

“Well,” he says. “When you’re done with them, please send them along to Josh. He’s waiting.” 

“Will do.” 

Sam leaves the office again, and I take a moment to watch him. What? He’s a good looking guy! I’m married, not dead! I can certainly appreciate a good looking man. 

“Anyway,” I continue pushing myself off the desk and everyone springs to their feet. “If an appearance of mine is ever pulled again without consulting myself or my staff, I promise you, I will give you something legitimate to worry about.” I’ll just let that hang there for them. Let them worry about whether or not it’s their jobs I’m referring to, or something else, like me coming out in favor of school prayer or something. 

I breeze out of Lou’s office leaving the four of them in shock and the communications staff smirking. 

Man, that was fun! 

TBC


	20. Learning to Navigate

JOSH’S POV 

Try as I may, I cannot for the life of me figure out what I did that the President felt he had to punish me for by hiring Amy. Maybe it was because I fired her during the campaign. I ask myself this every time she comes into my office. I’m dictating to Carol when she strolls in this time. I’m sitting on the couch and Carol is sitting on a chair next to me. 

“Good morning.” she smiles at me. Carol rolls her eyes. It’s a good thing Carol’s got her back to Amy. Carol’s not a fan of Amy’s. I’m not entirely sure why. I mean, I’m sure at it’s core it’s reasons to do with Donna, but I don’t remember Amy and Carol ever really speaking to each other. 

“Morning.” I say back. 

“Am I interrupting?” Amy asks. 

“Nah.” Carol says sarcastically standing up. “He’s just running a country. But really, he can do that any old time.” I raise my eyebrows as Carol breezes from the room. That was harsh. I should probably find out from Carol what her beef is, but quite frankly, I’m not all that interested. 

“What is it with your assistants not liking me, J?” Amy asks taking the seat Carol just abandoned. 

“Got me.” I reply. Maybe if you were a little more nice to them... 

“Donna didn’t like me when we dated either.” 

“I don’t know anything about that.” I say rising and walking back behind my desk. In truth, though Donna never said anything to me about it, at the time I could tell she didn’t particularly care for Amy or the fact that I dated her...twice. 

“Really?” she asks me. 

“Really what?” I reply. 

“You couldn’t tell that she was jealous?” 

Well, of course I could, but she went out with Cliff, so... 

“What did you need?” I ask with a sigh. 

“I should have known better than to talk to you about Donna.” 

Yeah, you really should have. 

“I got a pretty busy day, Amy, what do you need?” I ask again. 

“The Stackhouse bill.” Amy says standing up and walking to the other side of my desk. 

“What about it?” 

“You don’t think it makes the First Lady look too desperate?” 

“Desperate?” I ask. 

“Yeah, like she’s trying to take on too much?” 

“It’s an unwritten bill.” I reply. “It’s in it’s planning stages. It’s going to be months before it goes anywhere.” 

“Okay.” she shrugs. 

“What?” 

“You should poll her.” 

“I did.” I say picking up the results off my desk and dropping them back down. “Donna will be here any minute to talk about the results.” And I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to find you here. 

“It’s not that it doesn’t have the potential to be a good bill,” she says. “I just think it might be a bit aggressive so soon.” 

“What’s too aggressive?” Donna asks entering the office from Carol’s door. 

“Nothing.” Amy smiles. Donna drops down into a chair on the other side of my desk and looks up at Amy and Carol comes in with paper bags and coffee. She puts one bag in front of Donna. I’m about to get in trouble in front of Amy. 

“What’s this?” Donna asks opening up the bag. 

“It’s a bagel for you.” I reply. 

“Ooohh noooo.” Donna says pushing it away. 

“Eat it.” I order. 

“I already had breakfast.” she says. 

“You had yogurt.” I shoot back. “You have eaten next to nothing for days now.” 

“The state dinner is tomorrow, Joshua.” she shoots back. “You know the routine. I have a dress to fit into.” 

“Baby, that dress is going to fit you just fine.” I argue and take note of Amy’s raised eyebrow, presumably at the term of endearment; something she did for me, but I never did for her. “You look amazing, you always have, and you’ve got no weight to lose. Eat the freaking bagel or Carol will help me shove it down your throat.” 

Donna arches a brow at me. She’s right. I do know the routine. There’s a trail of tears before each formal event. She did the same thing before the inauguration. Carol does it, CJ did it, all the women did it. Why Donna felt compelled to go on hunger strike before a formal dinner, I have no clue. There’s no extra fat on her anywhere. Trust me. 

“Don’t be so smothering, J.” Amy says. “There’s going to be a lot of people there, she’s going to be getting her picture taken. Pay no attention to this, Donna, it used to bug the hell out of me, too.” Now Amy gets the arched brow. 

Donna pulls the bagel out of the bag and begins to apply an ample amount of cream cheese to it. “I don’t know,” she says not taking her attention away from her bagel. “I always thought Josh’s concern for my health and well being were endearing. I mean, he flew to Germany without a suitcase, how could I not?” 

“Well, yes. He’s always been impulsive.” Amy smiles. But it’s not a real one. That’s the smile she gives you right before she tries to kick your ass. I don’t like where this is headed. “Once he sees something he goes right after it, no matter how many times it takes.” Yeah, this is where I thought this was going. 

“Interesting view of him you have, Amy.” Donna says now opening the sip lid of her coffee and testing the temperature. “I always found that when he really wants something, he bides his time, he doesn’t want to screw it up.” 

“No, that doesn’t sound like him at all.” Amy retorts. 

“Well, you’ve got to get him. When you do, you see who he really is.” 

“All right. Scintillating as this is, I’ve got a day.” I finally interrupt. I mean, watching them throw mud at each other over me is entertaining and all, but I’m not really wild about Amy insinuating that I’ll go back to her after Donna and I break up. 

“Fine.” Amy says turning to leave. “I’ll touch base with you later, J.” She leaves the office without a word to Donna, who doesn’t seem at all offended by it. She does, however, turn innocent eyes on me as I sit down in my chair. 

“Had fun there, did you?” I ask. 

“Not particularly.” she shrugs and thankfully takes a bite of the bagel. I thought before it was just a show for Amy. 

“She told me earlier that you didn’t like her when we were dating.” 

“Well, she was right about that, at least.” She turns her attention back to her breakfast. 

“You okay?” I ask. 

“Mmm-hmm.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes.” 

I’m not so sure. I think that conversation bugged her. “You know I vigorously objected when the President hired her, right?” 

“I remember, Joshua.” she smiles. 

“I just...” I start, but trail off. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” I say. It’s not a conversation for the White House anyway. “Helen’s polling numbers.” 

“Are they good?” she asks taking a sip of coffee. 

“Yes, they’re very good.” I say. I stand up and come around my desk, leaning against it right in front of her. 

“But?” she asks looking up at me. 

“Not buts.” I say. 

“You couldn’t tell me the results on the phone then or in an email?” she smiles at me and stands up. Her face is inches away from mine now. Okay. So, I’m busted. 

“You know me. Any excuse to see your beautiful face as much as possible during the day.” 

She smiles and leans in a bit so I can kiss her. She tastes like coffee. “Up to your old tricks again, I see.” she smiles lightly. 

“Well, I rely on what works best.” 

TBC


	21. Learning to Navigate

JOSH’S POV 

Let me just start off by saying that I was right. I think that bears repeating. I was right. Donna looks amazing. She looks beyond amazing; she looks...enchanting. I swear to God, I sighed when I saw her tonight. She’s wearing this dove gray dress that’s got, like, one inch straps on her shoulders. It clings to her breasts, which, you know, I like, but I imagine the Emperor of Japan will, too, but then it flows down around her body and doesn’t hug anything. Her hair is up, just the way I like it when she dresses up. I’m not kidding, she totally looks like some kind of Goddess. If she wouldn’t kick my ass, I’d get her one of those leaf rings for her head. 

I do have this to say though, for a dress that doesn’t cling to anything, and, quite frankly, thank God for that, why the hell was she stressing over what she ate all week? 

I never get tired of seeing her dressed up like this. You’d think it would be old hat for me now, but after seeing it for seven years, I’m just not tired of it. I mean, I wear the same thing every single time we have to do one of these. But Donna...Donna always looks different. 

She glides towards me, and right as she approaches, she twirls around, so I can see the whole thing. I grin at her. 

“Well?” 

“You take my breath away, Donnatella.” I say softly and kiss her right there in the cross over hall from the East Wing. 

“Thank you, Josh.” she smiles. I trail my thumb across her lips before I plant another one on her. “I do this for you, you know.” she says as she loops her arm through mine and we head towards the East Room. 

“You know, I did start to suspect that after a while.” I confess. 

“Oh really? And how far back do you think it goes?” 

“At least the night President Lassiter died.” I say. 

“The Fords Theater thing?” she says with a nod. “That was the night I told you I was 16 when I lost my virginity.” 

“Yeah, let’s not go there again.” I say quickly. I mean, come on, SIXTEEN?? I look over at her and frown a bit. “Why are you shorter tonight?” 

She smiles coyly and sticks her foot out. She’s got these shoes on that don’t have any heels and look almost like ballet slippers, but, you know, more elegant than that. 

“No high heels?” I ask. This is strange for me. I’m used to her being at a certain height in this building. 

“I like to rest my head on your shoulder when we dance.” she shrugs as we arrive at the entrance to the East Room. 

I am constantly amazed by the genuineness of her. She wore flat shoes so she could rest her head on my shoulder when we danced tonight? What do you say to that? I look down at the floor and smile before I look back up at her and she chuckles at my reaction. 

“I love you, too, you know, Josh!” she laughs lightly as we wait to enter the room. “There are things about your body that I love, too.” Well, this is valuable information. 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Oh, like you wouldn’t have asked. 

“It depends where we are.” She shrugs. “At these things, it’s your tuxedo clad shoulders and arms. They really are very strong.” 

“Well, if I have my way, you’ll spend most of the night in them.” I say softly. 

She doesn’t have a chance to reply because we finally make it to the door. There are cameras there, and flashbulbs going off. But I guess she liked what I said because she kisses me on my cheek and smiles as she curls her head to my shoulder briefly. That probably made for quite the fetching photo op. My mom will go nuts for it. 

The President and First Lady aren’t here yet. They won’t enter for probably another hour or so with the Emperor and Empress. So, it’s up to Donna and I to work the room for a while. We’re this close to getting Baker confirmed. He’s already here with his wife, chatting it up with the leadership. Another picture is taken of us as Sam approaches with his fiancé, whatshername. 

“Did I miss something?” I ask him. “Were we crowned prom king and queen?” 

“You ARE one of DC’s most eligible bachelors, Josh.” Sam grins handing me a drink. Donna mutters something unintelligible next to me. I don’t plan on being on that list for long, between you and me. And no, I’m not planning on proposing to her tonight. The state dinner is the story, not me and Donna. 

“Megan, it’s nice to see you again.” Donna smiles and leans over to kiss her on the cheek. Megan! That’s it! Glad I didn’t have to address her directly yet. What? I’ve only actually met her once and Sam actually doesn’t talk about her that much. In my defense, I thought it started with an M. 

“You look beautiful, Donna.” she smiles back. 

“Thank you, I love this dress.” Donna replies. Here comes the girl talk. 

“Well, I’ve been meaning to ask you where you shop.” Megan says. See? 

“Well, right now, I shop with the First Lady because it’s a time saver now, but I’ll be happy to take you one Saturday to the dress shops I went to before. The Correspondence Dinner is coming in a few weeks.” she says. 

“That would be great!” Sam says. “You don’t know anyone here yet, Meg. And I haven’t really been able to show her any of that kind of stuff.” 

“You know where dress shops are?” I ask Sam with an arched brow. 

“No.” he quickly replies. 

Donna gives me a peck on the cheek and breaks off to work the room, taking Megan with her. She gets all of four steps away before she’s descended upon by Becky Reisman. She talks to her for a while, then moves on where she’s cornered by Andi Wyatt. They talk for longer and start to work the room together. Each time Donna is stopped by someone new, I see her introduce Megan. She really is incredibly thoughtful. I’m constantly amazed that she loves me, I really am. 

The President and First Lady and Emperor and Empress are introduced and the dancing for the evening begins. Donna and I get one dance in, where she did not rest her head on my shoulder, much to my disappointment, when we’re separated. She’s talking to the new Director of NOW when Amy comes up to them. From here, Donna looks pleasant enough, but I can see the slight change in her posture. 

“I want to know why my chief of staff hates your legislative director so much.” The First Lady says appearing at my side. I guess I’m not the only one that noticed. 

“What makes you think she hates Amy?” I ask and she looks pointedly at me. 

“A woman knows.” she says dryly. “Plus, in my few encounters with Ms. Gardner, she doesn’t seem overly fond of Donna. There seems to be a mutual dislike between them.” 

“Donna doesn’t hate anybody.” I insist. This is true. I really don’t think there’s anybody Donna actually hates. Well, I know she hates West Virginia White Pride, but that’s on a different level. Hate is a word she doesn’t use lightly. 

“Josh,” Helen says in an overly indulgent tone. “It’s chivalrous of you to want to protect her, but I’m just trying to understand the dynamic there. It’ll make things a little easier all around.” 

“Amy and I dated on and off for a while. Donna and I weren’t just boss and assistant, she was my friend. When things were rocky with Amy, she heard about. She has strong opinions for how she views I was treated by Amy. Friends side with their friends.” I explain as I watch Donna accept a dance with Matt Skinner. 

“You’re a very complex man, Josh Lyman.” the First Lady smiles. I shrug in response and invite her to dance. She accepts and it’s like the parting of the Red Sea as I lead her onto the dance floor. 

“I have a confession to make.” she announces as we glide around the room. 

“Should I alert the counsel’s office?” 

“I hate these things.” 

“Well, the counsel’s office isn’t going to care about that.” 

“All this formality just isn’t me.” 

“It’s not anyone actually.” I say. 

“I don’t know.” she shrugs. “Donna looks like she belongs here.” I glance over her shoulder to where Donna is still dancing with Matt. I smile as I watch her laugh at something Matt said. 

“She’s used to these things. She had to go to them for seven years.” 

“She’s quite popular tonight.” Helen notes. “Her dance card has been full all night.” 

“Are you trying to incite me to jealousy?” I smirk. 

“Maybe.” she shrugs. 

“You’re too late. I’ve always been jealous if someone else has her attention. She’s dancing with Matt Skinner now, who is a gay republican, and I’m jealous.” 

Helen laughs as the dance ends. I lead her off the dance floor back to the President’s side and plunge back into the melee of guests in search of my girlfriend. Full dance card my ass. 

TBC


	22. Learning to Navigate

HELEN’S POV 

As Sam leads me to the dance floor, out of the corner of my eye, I catch Josh extricating Donna from a circle of people. I smile knowingly to myself. It’s so easy to push his buttons. 

“Something amusing, ma’am?” Sam smiles at me. 

“Josh.” I answer. 

“I’m Sam.” 

“I know.” I chuckle. He’s so adorable sometimes. “Josh is what’s amusing. I just danced with him. While we were dancing, I told him Donna was popular tonight and her dance card seemed full. As soon as the song ended, he practically sprinted me back to my husband and went to find her.” 

“Ma’am,” Sam chides. “you can’t say things like that to Josh, it makes him freak out.” 

“I know. It’s fun to rattle the unrattleable.” 

“I don’t believe unrattleable is a word.” 

“You dare correct the wife of the President?” I say in mock indignation. 

“When she’s butchering the English language, yes.” 

“Anyway,” I continue. “during the campaign, Josh was so serious all the time, nothing seemed to phase him, until Donna came.” 

“Lots of things affect Josh.” he says. “He just doesn’t show it.” 

“Well, he shows it when it’s Donna.” 

“Well, he’s never not been able to.” Sam says. “He could hide how strong his feelings were for her, but never his jealousy.” 

“Isn’t that showing how he felt about her?” 

“Not necessarily. They’re the king and queen of misdirection. He’d do everything in his considerable power to sabotage a date of hers under the guise that we worked in the White House and that came before a personal life. When in reality, he didn’t want to be here if she wasn’t.” 

“That’s sweet.” I smile. 

“That’s deluded.” he counters. 

“Yeah, but it’s still kind of sweet.” 

“The funny thing about that is, it was true. They could have gotten together years ago, but they worked in the White House, and that came first.” He sounds a little sad when he says it. 

“Maybe they weren’t ready.” I say. 

“Not for a while, no. But they were at one point. There was a time when they were ready, and they let it go by, probably because they were scared, and I think that was when it started to unravel.” 

“When was that?” 

“Well, I wasn’t around then. I had left to go to California to run for Horton Wilde’s campaign. But on Bartlet’s second inauguration night, I got two very similar sides of a story. It just made me think that that was it. But nothing came of it.” 

“They have a nice love story.” I say with a glance in the couple in question’s direction. Donna was dancing with her head on his shoulder. I wish I was allowed to dance like that tonight. 

“They do.” 

The song ends and Sam begins to lead me off the dance floor. They’re about to start serving dinner. We just make it to the periphery when I overhear a conversation that stops me. Amy’s talking to someone and she’s talking about Josh and Donna. 

“I wouldn’t be too concerned about it, Sara.” she saying to an elegant woman next to her. “I think it’s a passing infatuation.” 

“I think you’re wrong this time, Amy.” the woman Sara says. “I think Josh really is off the market now. It’s too bad. I always thought he was cute. They make a nice couple though.” 

Amy scoffs at that. I can’t see her face, but I’m sure she rolled her eyes. It just sounded like an eye rolling scoff. 

“Trust me.” Amy says. “I know Josh. He’s only getting what he couldn’t have for so long. Josh had this silly little infatuation with her for years, while she dated half of Washington. Once he gets it out of his system, that’ll be that.” 

What a bitch. 

“What I want to know is,” I say loudly surprising Sam, who looks a little annoyed at the conversation himself. “is why you care, Amy.” 

“Mrs. Santos!” she says in surprise when she turns to see Sam and I standing there. 

“It’s a state dinner, Amy.” I reply cooly. “You should address me as Ma’am.” 

“Of course, ma’am. I’m sorry. I was just surprised.” she stumbles. Oh yes, Amy, you have been busted. 

“You haven’t answered my question.” I remind her. “Why do you care who Josh dates? You’re seeing someone, you’ve supposedly moved on. What difference does it make to you, what bearing could it possibly have on your life, who your ex-boyfriend dates?” 

“He’s my friend, ma’am. I care about him.” she replies. 

“I don’t think so.” I say. Sara’s eyes bug out of her head and Amy’s jaw tightens. “I think you care about winning. It’s painfully obvious you don’t like Donna. I’ll admit, it must have been rough dating a man who had an assistant who looks like that at work. She probably did distract him upon occasion. He’d hardly be a man with a pulse if she didn’t. But if you did care about him and you were truly a friend to him, you’d be happy that he finally had what he wanted all along, that he finally had a woman that makes him light up. But you’re not. You’re spiteful. I think you need to let it go, Amy; maybe see a therapist for it, but let it go all the same.” 

I turn back to Sam. He’s smiling at me. I take his arm, and he leads me to my table, chuckling the whole way. 

TBC


	23. Learning to Navigate

DONNA’S POV 

I sigh contentedly as I rest my head on Josh’s shoulder while we dance. We probably should show something of a more formal dance frame, but screw it. We’ve been doing that for nine years. It’s not like he’s holding me up drunk or something. Plus, a more formal dance frame will let others think we’re interruptible. We probably should be, but at the moment, I’d like a dance in this building where his arms can be around me the way I always wanted them to be. And he DOES have really strong arms. 

The song finally ends and the lights dim briefly signaling the start of dinner, so Josh takes my hand and leads me towards the Presidential table. He stops abruptly. 

“What’s the matter?” I ask when I see his curious expression. He nods across the dance floor and I follow his line of sight to see Amy with Sara Petrero talking with Helen and Sam. Sam looks amused, Sara looks mortified, Amy looks like she wants to scratch the First Lady’s eyes out, and Helen looks...oh shit. Helen looks like she’s having a good time. 

After she smacked around the communications staff, she told me how much fun it was. She’d never had anyone show complete deference and non-dominance to her before. Hopefully, she’s not getting out of control with Amy. 

I know she doesn’t like Amy. She thinks Amy doesn’t have any use for her. She’s probably right. Helen and I aren’t the kind of women Amy respects. We don’t need men to be afraid of us to feel like we have their respect. I don’t need to constantly be winning arguments with Josh to prove I’m worth something, though really, I AM usually right more than he is. 

“I wonder what that is.” he says. 

“Should be easy enough to find out.” I shrug. He leads me back to the table and maneuvers me to sit right next to the First Lady with him on my other side. He’s seated next to the Empress of Japan. THAT should be interesting. 

I give Helen an arched brow as we take our seats. 

“What?” she asks innocently. What, my ass. 

“I think you know.” I reply. 

“I have no Earthly idea what you might be referring to.” she says airily. 

“No?” I reply. “What could you possibly have to speak with the Legislative Director about?” 

“Well, we ARE vigorously --” 

“Try again.” I reply cutting her off in an outrageous breach of protocol. Luckily, Helen doesn’t really know about protocol, and if she did, she wouldn’t care anyway. 

Helen looks at me a few moments. We’ve spent a lot of time together in the last few months and I’ve come to recognize this as her “mulling something over” face. 

“Okay.” she nods. “But I can’t tell you about it here.” Well, this should be interesting. 

Dinner pretty much is painful for all of us. These things usually are. The President, Josh and Emperor of Japan start talking affairs of state. I usually find this stuff interesting, especially now, since I’m rather impressed with how much Josh has picked up on foreign policy, but I’m on my second glass of wine and Helen...well, I’m pretty sure she’s on her third. 

 

“You know, Donna, I was thinking.” Helen says to me, not so loud to draw the others out of their conversation. “I was thinking we could go somewhere to work on this bill. Somewhere we can concentrate without being interrupted, well, we’d be interrupted by my kids, but I mean by others. You can break this all down for me.” 

“Where were you thinking of going?” I ask, dreading the answer is going to be, like, Texas, or Paris, or Hawaii, though I could get behind Hawaii. 

“Maybe Camp David?” she asks. I can feel my body run cold at that suggestion. 

“Camp David?” I ask, having to find my voice first. 

“Yeah.” she nods. “What’s at Camp David?” 

“I’ve never been there.” I reply softly. There’s a knot forming in my stomach, for reasons I can’t identify. I mean, it’s just Camp David. “But it’s trees and cabins and stuff. There’s a lot for the kids to do.” 

“That would be great!” she smiles. I can hardly muster one in return. It’s suddenly getting hot in here. “Are you all right?” 

“I’ll be right back.” I gasp out. I stand up quickly and bolt from the room. The bathrooms outside of the East Room have a line. Thank God I know this building. I rush off to the East Wing offices. Our bathrooms are blessedly empty. I fall to my knees in the last stall and wretch. My breathing is coming in rapid, gulping gasps and I’m starting to sweat. Why on Earth would Camp David elicit this kind of reaction in me? I’ve never even BEEN there. Josh had been there a few times, but I never have. 

When I feel under control again, I move to the sink and splash some cold water on my face. I’m going to have to go back to my office now and fix my make up. I clean myself up a bit before I head out of the bathroom. There is some staff working tonight around here. I’m on my way to my office when Carol comes rushing up to me. 

“Donna,” she says anxiously. “I just got a call from Josh’s mother’s neighbor.” 

Oh shit. 

“An ambulance just took his mother to Columbia Hospital in West Palm Beach.” 

“For what?” I ask softly, all thoughts of Camp David have been banished from my head. 

“He didn’t say.” she says shaking her head. “They were supposed to gather at her house to watch the state dinner arrivals on t.v.,” Sylvia Lyman will watch the door of the White House for an hour on CSPAN to try and catch a glimpse of her son, who we’ve repeatedly told her doesn’t enter that way. “but she didn’t answer her door, Malcolm went home to get his spare key and when they went inside, they found her on the couch unconscious. He said she felt like she was burning up with a high fever.” 

“She was breathing though?” I ask anxiously. 

“He said she was, but it seemed pretty shallow.” 

“All right.” I say. “I’m going to go to my office and see if I can find anything out. Go get Josh out of there.” 

“Okay.” 

“Carol, he’s going to want to go down there.” I say. “Get on that for him, too.” 

“Got it.” she says and moves hastily towards the East Room. 

My computer’s still on when I enter my office. I switch my desk lamp on and Google Columbia Hospital in West Palm Beach. I jot the number down, pick up the phone and dial. I’m not sure what they’ll tell me, if anything, HIPA being what it is. 

When the switchboard answers, I ask to be connected to the hospital manager on duty. Being this late at night, I know the ER manager wouldn’t be there and I don’t want to harass the nursing staff. 

“May I help you?” a voice answers. 

“This is Donna Moss, Chief of Staff to the First Lady. I’m calling from the White House.” I announce with bravado. 

“I’m sorry?” she asks. I can’t blame her. 

“My name is Donna Moss. I work for the First Lady of the United States and I’m calling from the White House.” 

“Um...okay.” the woman says. 

“My boyfriend, Josh Lyman, the President’s Chief of Staff, his mother, Sylvia Lyman, was taken to the emergency room a little while ago. I wanted to talk to someone about her condition.” 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry. We can only give that information to immediate family.” she says, but I hear her typing into a computer. I suspect she’s bringing up Sylvia’s information. 

“I understand that.” I say with what I hope is an extremely friendly and sympathetic voice. “I don’t know how closely you follow politics or what’s going on in Washington, but the White House is currently hosting a state dinner for the Emperor and Empress of Japan. My boyfriend, Sylvia Lyman’s son, is currently sitting with the President of the United States and the Emperor of Japan. I’m sure you can appreciate how difficult it will be for him to get away at the moment.” 

“I’m really, really sorry...” she starts. Shit. I’m getting nowhere with her. “...but I just -- wait a minute. What did you say your name was?” 

“Donna Moss.” I reply. 

“You’re listed on her records as an authorized person for us to release information to.” she says. 

Thank you, Sylvia, for your foresight and your unrelenting pursuit to get me and Josh married! 

“Thank you.” I sigh into the phone. “What do they know so far?” 

“She’s being admitted for pneumonia.” 

“Is it serious?” I ask. 

“She’s 72 years old.” the woman counters. “Generally, pneumonia is serious for someone her age. Her doctor is Dr. Joan Lawler.” I pause for a second as I think of the parallel there. I wonder if it’s comforting to Sylvia that she’s being cared for by someone with her daughter’s name. 

Josh comes bounding into my office. He’s pale as a sheet. 

“What’s going on with my mother?” he demands. 

“Thank you, very much.” I say to the phone, holding up a finger to Josh. 

“Donna!” he protests impatiently. 

“Should I ask for Dr. Lawler when we call back for an update?” I ask. 

“Mrs. Lyman will be admitted to our general medical/surgical floor. You can call the nurses’ station there.” the woman says. 

“Thank you, again.” 

I hang up the phone and look at Josh. He looks like he’s hanging on by a thread. 

“She’s being admitted with pneumonia.” I say. His eyes go slightly wider and he drops down onto my couch. He props his elbows on his knees and drops his head into his hands. My heart immediately goes out to him. His mother’s all he’s got left, other than me. He’s got an aunt on his father’s side with some cousins, but hasn’t been in touch with them for a few years now. 

I immediately move to his side and kneel before him. His arms come around me and he drops his face into my shoulder. 

“She’s healthy, Josh. She can fight this.” I say softly. 

“How the hell do we know? I haven’t been to see her in ages.” 

“We talk to her all the time.” I counter. “I talked to her just the other day. She wouldn’t lie.” 

“Wanna make a bet?” he counters. “She’s the queen of not wanting to worry me.” 

“We’ll leave tonight; you’ll see for yourself in the morning.” I say pulling back and running my fingers lightly through his hair. His eyes don’t seem to be seeing me right now. They seem to see what he deems as a not so distant future without his mother. 

TBC


	24. Learning to Navigate

DONNA’S POV 

We’ve been in the air for about an hour now. Josh has been staring out the window most of the time. Our hands are linked and resting on my thigh. His thumb has been absently rubbing back and forth on my hand nearly the entire time. I’m surprised the skin isn’t red, to be honest. Thank God it’s not a long flight. 

We didn’t stay at the White House much longer after I talked to the hospital. I’ll give Josh credit. He did try. We went back into the East Room to explain to the President and First Lady and Sam what was going on and that we’d be taking at least a few days off. They were, of course, fully supportive. Since it was going to take the Treasury Department a little while to ready the plane, contact the airport in Florida, the hospital and the police department of West Palm Beach, among who the hell knew who else, we figured we’d try and stay at the dinner, rather than turn heads by leaving abruptly. 

In the end, we slipped out. Josh was entirely too preoccupied to pay attention. Josh isn’t like Leo was. When Leo’s life was turned upside down, no one knew it. He hid everything so well, and came in day after day and did his job. That’s not the case with Josh. When something tragic and unexpected happens to Josh, everyone around him knows it. He handles it better now, but it’s still obvious his mind is elsewhere. 

After he sees his mother for himself, I imagine he’ll be able to focus more and start staying in contact with the White House by phone. 

“What was going on with you before?” he asks me suddenly, turning to me and away from the window. Maybe he can focus on more than one thing at the moment. 

“What are you talking about?” I reply. 

“Earlier tonight.” he says. “You were talking to Helen, and then all of the sudden, you got up and left. I was going to come find you when Carol came in to get me.” Oh. I was hoping he didn’t notice that. I guess I wasn’t as discreet as I had hoped. 

“I’m not sure. I just felt sick all of the sudden.” I reply. This is true. I won’t get into the Camp David stuff, since I don’t know what the hell that was about. Even now, just thinking about it, I get a strange feeling. 

“Are you all right?” he asks with a frown. 

I nod my head quickly. “Yeah. It passed. Maybe it was something I ate.” He doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he seems like he’s going to let it drop. “Um, while we’re talking about earlier, Helen was talking to me at the time about getting away for a weekend so she and I can really work on this bill and I can break it all down for her. She was thinking she’d might like to go to Camp David.” I practically choke on those two words. And I swear, he just flinched a bit when I said that. “Do you know what I have to do to arrange that?” 

“Just tell...” he starts, but his voice is hoarse, so he starts again. “Just tell the secret service. They’ll call up there and set it all up.” 

“Okay.” I nod. I’m starting to feel those butterflies in my stomach again, but I push by them. “Can you come?” 

“Probably.” he shrugs. He turns back to the window and I take a deep, calming breath. He whips his head back towards me. “Are you SURE you’re all right?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I nod. 

“You’re not not telling me because you’re afraid of overstressing me right now or something?” he asks unconvinced. 

“No.” I assure. I’m not telling you because I have no idea what the hell my problem is. He looks incredibly skeptical right now, like he knows I’m misdirecting him. And he would know. He had nine years of misdirection after all. He’s pretty good at recognizing it. He doesn’t say anything more, but I know the subject isn’t dropped. It’ll come up again. 

“Thanks.” he says softly. 

“For?” 

He gestures around the plane with a shrug. “Coming.” 

“What else would I do?” I ask, cocking my head to the side. 

“I don’t know.” he shrugs again. “Keep the home fires burning and wait for my phone call.” 

“While your mother’s in the hospital?” I ask incredulously. “You think I would let you go through this all by yourself?” Do you think the secret service would get to me before I successfully pushed his dumb ass out of the plane? 

“I didn’t think of anything until now.” he sputters, obviously surprised by my angry tone. “I just wanted to thank you for being with me.” 

I lean in and kiss him softly. It was meant to be a quick kiss, but as often happens with us, it escalated a bit. Not so much as to give the secret service a show, but more than what it was intended to be. 

“Another option never crossed my mind.” I say softly and he smiles lightly. “Why don’t you try to sleep.” I suggest. “We’ve both been up since 5:30 this morning. We’re going on, like, 20 hours now.” 

He drops his head back against the seat with a chuckle. “Like THAT’S likely to happen.” Yeah, all right, I know. I’m exhausted, but I don’t think I could sleep either. 

He turns back to the window, and I hug myself around his arm, drop my head to his shoulder and look out with him. There’s nothing but darkness out there. There’s something peaceful about plane rides at night. The plane cabin is mostly dark and it’s a clear night. President Bartlet used to love long plane rides at night. He thought they were romantic; he thought they inspired big ideas in people. He thought they were poetic. 

I don’t feel inspired right now, as I look out across the night and gently rub Josh’s bare arm. I certainly don’t feel romantic when the man I love is in pain right now. But oddly enough, I do feel peaceful. I do feel comforted, even though I’m the one doing the comforting now. It’s not moving me to write a great oratory, as Sam would say, but it is beautiful. I sigh, and Josh turns and plants a kiss on my temple, then looks back out the window. 

“It’s an incredible sky tonight.” He says softly. He feels it, too. 

We land shortly later. We taxi along the runway to the restricted area where the secret service is waiting with a state police escort. The lights on the top of the police car are flashing and as has been my habit for seven years now, I glance over at him. It doesn’t seem to phase him. I feel a little silly now for having the thought. After all, the motorcade always travels with a police escort in front, and they always have their lights on, and occasionally a siren. Of course after seven years, he would either block it out by now or have learned to deal with it. 

We’re down the stairs, across the tarmac and into the waiting car in no time flat. I gotta tell you, getting out of an airport with a police escort, even at this un-Godly hour, is the way to go, my friends. 

The ride to the hospital doesn’t take long and the back seat of the car mirrors the plane ride down, though now Josh has added his bouncing leg to the picture. If he ever needed to pace, it’s now. Not that I don’t think he’ll be doing plenty of it shortly. 

We pull right up to the front door of the hospital. Hospital security is there to let us in the front door. And we, of course, turn heads as we barrel through the lobby. A security guard is leading the way. After all, we’re way outside visiting hours. Plus, we come with armed bodyguards. 

Hospital staff steps back when we come upon them. They’re looking at us curiously. I’m sure the nurses on this floor were advised of our visit, but they stop to stare anyway. How often does the Chief of Staff for the President of the United States show up on your hospital floor during the graveyard shift? 

And it’s not like Josh LOOKS like the Chief of Staff. He’s wearing faded jeans, a Mets t-shirt and Birkenstocks. Not at all Chief of Staff-ish. But I have to tell you, still rather hot. You didn’t expect Josh to be a Birkenstocks guy did you? Me either. I have no idea where the hell they came from. In nine years, I’ve never seen him wear them. But I can’t really comment on his choice of attire. I’m in jeans, flip flops and a white v-neck t-shirt myself. I don’t look like the current controller of the First Lady of the United States’ couture myself. But, I mean, it’s West Palm Beach here. It’s not remotely as cold as Washington is right now. In fact, it’s not cold at all. And just a few short hours ago, he was wearing an Armani tuxedo and I was wearing a Versace gown. 

The security guard brings us to a room door where a state trooper is standing outside. That’s probably freaking some people out around here. The secret service goes in the room first and Josh starts to pace. 

I smile as I hear the sudden outburst from the occupant of the room. 

“OH NO YOU DON’T!” I hear Sylvia Lyman shriek. “Who called you!? Don’t you dare let him in here! You take him right back to the White House. I did NOT want him to be bothered by this!” 

Josh looks at me and I smirk back. “Sounds like she’s doing pretty good.” I say. 

The secret service comes out and waves us in and they take up their positions at the door. “You’re not coming in with me?” He asks them incredulously. “You heard her. She WILL inflict bodily harm upon me!” 

“We don’t get in between our protectees and their pissed off mothers.” Tucker smirks. 

“Oh, NOW you make a joke?” Josh scoffs. 

“Sorry, sir.” Tucker says and looks straight ahead. 

“No, I don’t think you are.” Josh shoots back. 

“Josh,” I say and draw his attention. “Be a man. Let’s go in and see your mother.” 

He grabs my hand and yanks me into the room with him. Not surprisingly, Sylvia is the only patient. 

“Who called you?” she demands as soon as she sees us. 

“Henry.” Josh says simply, the relief evident on his face. 

“It’s nothing.” Sylvia dismisses with a wave. 

“Pneumonia isn’t nothing.” he argues. 

“You haven’t been to see me for a year and a half, Joshua.” Sylvia scolds wagging her finger at her son. “I had to come see YOU when you campaigned down here. Now, not twelve hours after I got here, you’re standing in my room because you think I was knocking on death’s door? This is what gets you to come see your mother?” 

“Look, mom!” Josh says suddenly pushing me before him. “Donna’s here!” 

“Don’t you dare hide behind Donna.” she says. 

“You know,” Josh shoots back getting angry. “You could drop the guilt and acknowledge that you scared the shit out of me. I bailed tonight on the EMPEROR OF JAPAN, mother! Nobody knew anything but you were unconscious and they couldn’t wake you up. I thought it was...” he trails off. He really is pretty shaken over the whole thing and her tirade didn’t do much for it. 

She looks at him for a long moment and seems to realize just what it’s done to him. “Oh, Joshua.” she sighs. She opens her arms and beckons him to her with her hands. He, of course, wastes no time moving to his mother’s arms. She folds herself around him, and I can tell he’s crying. I don’t care who you are or who you love, there’s nothing like that hug from your mother. 

He pulls away and rubs his face with his palms. 

“I do feel a lot better, Joshua.” she says and he nods. “But you have to know, I’m really not going to live forever.” she says it gently, but it still gives him a bit of a jolt. I don’t think he ever really thought of a world where he’d be the only surviving member of his family left. “Now, baby, you look like shit.” she says and he looks at her incredulously. “I don’t even want to know when the last time you slept was. Are you staying at my house?” 

He looks up and blinks a couple of times. I realize he has absolutely no idea. I step forward and put my hand gently on his back, rubbing up and down. “Yes.” I say. 

“Good.” she nods. “There’s plenty of food. Go home and sleep. Sleep for a while, Joshua. If I see you here before noon, I will call the National Enquirer and tell them stories from when you were a kid.” 

I smile and he stands up, wrapping an arm around my waist. “We’re so happy you’re feeling better.” I smile. 

“Donnatella....” she smiles lightly, and it lulls me into a false sense of security that I’m about to get away unscathed. “You’re still too skinny. You starved yourself for this stupid state dinner, I’m sure. Joshua, feed her while you’re home.” 

Josh gapes at his mother and I chuckle in response. She always tells me I’m too skinny. She’s been telling me that since we were at the hospital after Josh was shot. 

“Now, get!” she says shooing us with her hands. 

“Mom!” Josh yelps. 

“Joshua, I’m 72 years old, sick in a hospital, and it’s 2:30 in the morning. Get the hell out of here and let me go to sleep!” 

He leans down and kisses her cheek before giving her stink eye and pulling me out the door. 

TBC


	25. Learning to Navigate

JOSH’S POV 

She bolts to a sitting position with a gasp. Catching her breath, she looks quickly to my side of the bed, undoubtedly to see if she woke me up. Finding it empty, she looks quickly around the room, but I’m already moving to her. 

“I’m here.” I say softly sitting in front of her. My hand comes up to stroke her hair and she grabs onto my arm. 

“I didn’t wake you up.” she states the obvious. 

“Nah, I couldn’t sleep.” I reply. “Are you all right?” 

“Yeah.” she says with a jerky nod. 

“You had a bad dream?” I ask, and she nods. “Nightmare?” I clarify. Another nod. “Do you get them a lot?” I’m curious. We don’t talk too much about that stuff. We never really talked at ALL about it, actually. Yes, we talked about the after stuff; what happened after we came back from Germany and all that. But not the explosion; and not much about me flying to Germany. 

“No.” she says catching her breath. “I mean, sometimes. But not regularly or anything. I don’t know where it came from tonight.” I have a suspicion, but I don’t tell her. She got a little weird when we talked about Camp David earlier. Her voice got scratchy and her hand, which I was holding, got all clammy. She’s never been there, but the last time I was was for the peace talks. I must have called her 30 times while I was there. She heard everything from me. My frustration at the lack of progress, at Leo being mostly absent, at Toby’s cynicism, at President Bartlet’s seemingly naivete. And I’m sure I couldn’t mask my despair at being half a world away from her and the reasons for it. I had a hard time hiding my feelings from her at that particular time. 

I think, given that’s the last time she’d had to have given any thought to Camp David, the events surrounding my presence there, my calling that much, and the fact that shortly after that, our entire relationship imploded, I think Camp David is a trigger for her. 

Think it’s a stretch? You’re looking at the guy who heard sirens every time I heard the Carol of the Bells and began a very fast downward spiral when a guy I’ve never met in my entire life flew a plane into a mountain. The human mind really is very baffling. Trust me. I know of what I speak. When someone tells you you have a mental disorder, you want to know as much about it as you can. 

The thing is, I don’t think Donna ever talked to anyone when she came back. She pushed me away, so unfortunately, I’m not as knowledgeable about what was going on then. And don’t think that didn’t completely break my heart at that time. 

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think she’s as far gone as I was; not by a long shot, and I don’t even think she’s headed there. But I don’t think she ever really worked through it either. I won’t bring it up now, she’ll only take my head off. But when I see my opening, trust you me, I will be all over it. If for no other reason, for her to actually acknowledge that it happened; that it DID upset her professional and personal life and cause her to make drastic changes to both. 

I go get her water and come back to the bed. She takes it with a smile and drinks most of the glass. 

“You couldn’t sleep?” she asks. Let the misdirection begin... 

I shake my head. “My mind won’t shut off.” 

“I think she’s going to be okay.” she says. 

“Yeah.” I say, running my hand through my hair. “It’s a bunch of stuff.” 

“Take some Benedryl.” she suggests and I shrug. As she lays back, she tugs me with her. I can’t imagine being here right now without her. “Josh, you haven’t slept in 24 hours now.” 

“I know.” I say frustrated. “Trust me, I’m aware. I just can’t seem to shut it off.” 

“Well then,” she says, pushing me to my back and moving above me. “maybe I’ll have to tire you out.” 

“Um, I could go for some aerobic activity to tire me out.” I hastily agree. 

The second Donna starts talking about sex, I always become a quivering, drooling mass of testosterone. It didn’t always used to be that way. In the beginning, when she talked about sex, I tossed innuendos her way and she gave as good as she got; then, when she talked about sex, I started to pretend she was talking about something else in my head. I started to refuse to allow my mind to acknowledge that Donna was having sex with other men and not waiting for me. It was difficult at best, let me tell you. What was I supposed to do, you tell me? She tossed this whole handsome and powerful thing at me one day, with the husky voice and sex eyes, and I almost ripped her clothes off right there outside the Roosevelt Room. I mean, look what I was up against. 

But I’ve got her now. And now, when Donna talks about sex, it’s a turn on still because I know I’m going to get it and it’s going to be amazing. 

Except, at the moment, she’s rubbing her hands gently along my chest. It feels nice; it’s very soothing. My eyes flutter shut. I love the feeling of her hands on me like this. One minute, her hands could be lighting me on fire, and the next, they have a totally calming effect. She gently starts massaging my shoulders, and I feel the tension ebbing away. I groan outright as she moves her fingers to my temples. She alternates between rubbing my temples and running her fingers through my hair. 

Gestures like these are why I love her so much. She’s a nurturer. I always knew she would be, too. Amy never touched me like this. Amy’s solution to a hard day at the office was an enthusiastic round of sex, which is great and all. I’m not going to lie to you, Amy’s great in bed. But sometimes, when work was particularly stressful, I found myself staying there, just to stay in Donna’s presence. She could change my entire outlook with a hug, or the gentle tone of her voice. Hell, just staying with me at work and being Donna was usually all I needed. 

Donna always knew what I needed. She would know if bantering would pull me out of my funk; she would know if a supportive ear would work; and she would know if I wanted to be left alone and she just needed to stay in my general vicinity. This is why while I knew she was tuned to me, I was surprised when we returned from Germany to discover that she couldn’t actually read my mind. 

Seriously, that was shocking to me. No, it really was. Donna’s feelings for me had been pointed out to me on a couple of occasions throughout the years. It was no big surprise. When you spend 14 hours a day, six days a week with a person, you learn to read them well. 

What WAS surprising to me was that, while I knew at the minimum, she had a case of hero worship, I really had NO idea that I did, too. I mean, I knew I cared about her. I always knew that. But I didn’t realize that I had put her up on the same pedestal that she had put me. I had the same allusion that she could do anything and make anything happen and be anything I wanted her to be, except the one thing I needed her the most to be, that she did. 

I knew her so well that I was able to personify her as this Holy Grail woman that when it turned out she was actually human, and mortal at that, it was almost impossible to recover from. 

I feel myself happily drift to the limbo your mind and body go to right before you fall asleep. I have allowed her to successfully misdirect me, temporarily, from the nightmare. My body turns towards hers, and I wrap my arms around her waist and drop my head into her lap. Even though we’ve been together like this for a few months now, I’m still constantly amazed at the level intimacy we can share now. Oddly enough, though I’ve slept with different women since I met her, over the past nine years, she’s the only one I ever felt intimate with, and that was nothing compared to the level of intensity that’s between us now. 

I’m dimly aware of the fact that I’ve just been played. I mean, I thought I was getting sex to tire me out. But I’m too exhausted to protest. And so instead, I’ll allow the soft purr of her voice to lull me to sleep. 

TBC


	26. Learning to Navigate

DONNA’S POV 

He’s so still. 

What’s more, I think he likes being still now. Seeing this new side of Josh has really taken some getting used to. When he was deputy, he was one big ball of kinetic energy; he was always in motion. That’s not near the case now. 

We’re in the guest room at his mom’s, who will be released in a few days. It’s late. I was sitting up reading Vanity Fair. I can’t remember the last time I’ve actually had time to sit down and read a magazine. Josh’s mother had it laying around. I’m assuming because this issue showcased the First Lady. I’ve read the article before, but hadn’t had the opportunity to read the rest of the issue. 

Josh is sound asleep. His arms are curled around me and his head is on my stomach. I also can’t remember the last time he and I were like this; if we’ve EVER been like this. 

Well, no. We have. But that was during his recovery. Sometimes I’d bring him stuff home and read to him for a while, or he’d fall asleep with his head in my lap while we were watching CNN. That’s when the stillness started, but it was a VERY slow process. He literally hit the ground running when he went back to work. 

During the Santos campaign, he was working on overdrive. I can only imagine what he was like before I got there, having worked with him on Bartlet for America. But since the election, he’s slowed down and can stay in one spot. Maybe it’s because as Chief of Staff, people come to you. You don’t have to go to them. 

He’s so peaceful now. These are moments that I love and cherish. Everything’s so quiet. He’s not on the phone; I’m not on my laptop. But at the same time, sometimes I wish people could see them. Sometimes I wish people like CJ could see this. CJ, who was so sure my feelings were unrequited, who told me I was wasting my life on a man, while she, herself was imploding from loneliness. I wish she could see him now, hanging onto me like if he doesn’t, I’ll disappear. 

I won’t. I know he gets freaked out, but I won’t do that to him again. I shouldn’t have done it before, not in the way it happened. I should have called him; I should have forced him to listen to me. It’s not like I wasn’t given MANY opportunities on the campaign trail, and it’s not like his number wasn’t still number one on my speed dial. 

How could I do that? How could I do that to him when it’s so amazingly obvious how much he does love me? I rhythmically run my fingers through his hair. He smiles lightly in response. I don’t know yet if he’s asleep or awake because he will smile in his sleep sometimes when I touch him. It’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. He never did that before. And I’ll be perfectly frank, I touched him a lot when he slept when he was recovering. Now, don’t go thinking I was touching him anywhere I shouldn’t have been, but I would stroke his cheek, run my fingers through his hair, lay my hand gently on his chest, so I could feel it rise and fall. I needed a lot of assurance then that he was warm and breathing. Back then, it was me who needed to hold on so tight so he didn’t disappear. 

Now, I know I don’t have to. He has what he wants and that’s me. And I thank God for that every day, I seriously do. I didn’t think he ever saw me as more than his friend. I know I was more than his assistant. I know I said things that made him think different, but I was angry, and scared, and I didn’t want him to see that he hurt me again... could hurt me still. But I was more than his assistant, his sidekick, his friend, and he was more than my boss, my teacher, my friend. 

When I think of all those years we wasted.... 

Well, I won’t anymore. The past is...well, in the past, and it should stay there. He and I have a great future together. It’ll come tomorrow, like the future always does, so for now, as I look down at him, and he gently rubs his cheek against my stomach, I’ll treasure this serendipitous moment we’ve got and be content to just be still with him. 

**********************************

JOSH’S POV 

I walk down the corridor of the hospital towards my mother’s room, Donna’s hand in mine. I don’t know what I would have done without her here with me. Gotten through it, I suppose, but I can’t imagine it. My mother’s mortal and that’s still an idea I have a hard time wrapping my mind around. I mean, on the subconscious level, of course, she is. I’ve lost my sister, my father, Leo, sooner or later, I’d have to lose my mother. But my mother’s lost all that, too, and more. So, I guess I just figured, you know, this crap would just keep happening to her. 

Accepting the mortality of my mother is almost the same as accepting Donna’s mortality. I get sick just thinking about Donna dying before me. Between you and me, I really hope I go first. I hate to be the cause of pain for Donna, I really do, but I don’t think I could bear the thought of not being able to talk to her every day, see her beautiful eyes, and God help me, hear her snark me. Luckily, I got 12 years on her, so that plan might actually work. 

This seems to be a different shift of nurses. They’ve obviously been informed of my presence here, and if the word of mouth didn’t get to them, I’m sure the Florida State Trooper outside my mother’s door would tip them off. But neither Donna nor I have been in any semblance of professional dress since we got here. So, us traveling with the secret service is probably a funny sight. Of course, Donna looks better than me, like always. She’s not dressed up, but she still looks like she put forth an effort. Me? Not so much. But if Donna let me out of the house, I can’t look that bad. 

I lean against the wall as we wait for the elevator. 

“What time did the doctor say she could leave?” I ask Donna. Honestly, all I heard was tomorrow. After that, it’s details that are for Donna. Yeah, yeah, I know, save it. That’s not a throw back to me being her boss, it’s because Donna’s better organized than I am. Period. Why do you think I kept her around all that time? 

Yeah...no, I mean, she’s good at her JOB too! Or was good at her job. Well, that job. Forget it, you know what I mean. And really I mean that I let her stay after she hired herself because I realized she was a hundred times better organized than I was. 

You know what? Forget it. I give up with that. Let’s move on. 

“We should come back around 11.” she says sipping coffee. 

“What are we going to do tonight?” I ask. Donna and I, alone, with NO chance of having to go in to the White House. Whatever will I do? 

“Cook.” 

Okay. Well, I didn’t think I was going to do that. 

“Cook? Cook what?” 

“We’re going to cook for your mother and put it in the freezer. We’re going to make enough dinners to get her through the next week. I’ve got a list. We’ll hit the supermarket after this.” 

“Are you KIDDING me?” I ask. Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. 

Shit. 

Not a good sign. 

“No, Joshua, I’m not.” she snaps back. See? I told you not a good sign. “It’s a nice gesture that people do for others when they’re sick or when a couple has --” She breaks off and looks at me blankly. 

“When a couple has what?” I ask as the elevator doors open. We wait a minute while an orderly wheels a patient out and enter the elevator. Tucker hits the button for the lobby. 

“Nothing.” she shrugs. “It’s just something people do.” She avoids my eyes, and I think I’ve caught her meaning. I smile and tug on her shirt sleeve, but she ignores me. Oh, no, no, Donnatella, I don’t think so. I scratch her arm a bit with my finger. 

“Dooonnnnaaaa.” I sing, tugging on her shirt again. 

“Don’t be 12, Joshua.” she replies, but there’s a hint of a smile to her lips. 

“Me? You won’t even answer my question. When a couple has what?” 

“Fine.” She huffs. “When a couple has a baby. People cook for new parents because their whole life is turned upside down, and they don’t know which end is up, never mind whether or not their milk is expired.” 

The elevator doors open and she shoots out past Tucker. Probably hoping I didn’t notice that blush on her cheeks. 

I did. 

We make it to the lobby, and much to the secret services irritation race each other to the car. “You can’t hide from me now.” I say, as we climb into the car and it pulls away. 

“Can you just drop it?” she asks. 

“Hell no!” 

“Josh.” 

“I don’t know why you’re reacting this way. So you were going to say it’s something people do for couples who just had a baby. So what?” 

“Josh!” she huffed. “You’re so infuriating sometimes! Do you even WANT kids?” It’s out of her mouth before she can stop it. “Sorry. You don’t have to answer that.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Donna. Of course I’m going to answer it. We had a deal, remember? We talk about stuff when it comes up. You brought it up. You’re absolutely amazing, and your kids are going to be absolutely amazing, so, of course, I’d want to meet them. And since I’ll be dead and buried before I let another man touch you ever again, I guess I’m their dad.” 

She rolls her eyes at me. “You couldn’t just say yes?” 

“Didn’t I just do that?” I frown. 

“I suppose in your convoluted Josh way, you did.” she smiles and leans over to kiss me. Baby making with her is going to be fun! 

“I think you’d be a great dad.” she whispers. 

“Yeah? `Cuz I’m scared shitless of being a dad.” 

“You have nuclear launch codes, the reality of THAT responsibility isn’t scarier than being a father?” 

“No.” I mean really, the NSA throws a huge map up on the wall of the situation room, and it’s like a huge, digital, game of Risk, with WAY better graphics. 

“Well, I think you’ll be great.” 

“WE’LL be great.” 

TBC


	27. Learning to Navigate

~DONNA’S POV~ 

I’m standing under the portico of the White House, waiting for my cab. I have to tell you, I hate traveling without Josh now. When I’m traveling with him, I get a nice warm secret service car pulling up right when I need it. 

Josh has been a little strange since we’ve gotten back from Florida. I’m not really sure how to explain it. He seems...more mellow. It’s sort of freaking me out, to tell you the truth. I mean, this is what I’ve wanted for him, to slow down and take the proverbial chill pill, but I can’t say I ever thought he’d actually do it. 

I know he was shocked when I brought up the baby thing again. I didn’t mean to, it just came out to make my point about the cooking. But he didn’t meltdown like I thought he would. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the conversation. When Marcello and Rose were trying to get a rise out of us at dinner a few weeks ago, he didn’t seem uncomfortable by the topic then either. There’s certain areas where he’s turning into the anti-Josh, but I have to admit, I like the change. 

I think we’re a little backwards though, having kid conversations when we’re not married or engaged. Isn’t that putting the cart before the horse? I guess Josh and I have never really been conventional. On the other hand, we are buying a townhouse with a bunch of extra rooms in it. 

I know Josh wants to get married. I’m not an idiot. He probably wants to be married now, but he was waiting for me to stop having a nutty first. This goes to show you how much Josh loves me because Joshua Lyman can’t wait for anything. He is absolutely the most impatient person I have ever met. Well...maybe Toby is slightly ahead of him, but not by much. 

I’m shaken out of my thoughts by the appearance of Jack. “Good morning, Donna.” he smiles. 

“Hi.” I smile back. I hate that he’s seen me naked and works here. But I can’t hate him. He’s freaking Josh out, and so I avoid Jack at all costs, but I can’t bring myself to hate him. I keep that little fact from Josh. 

“How’s Josh’s mother?” he asks. I can tell he’s just being polite. He and Josh don’t get along at all now and I think he could care less how Josh’s mother is. 

“She’s well; she’s home.” I say. “Thanks for asking.” 

“Where are you off to?” he asks as my cab pulls up. 

“Uh, the Hill.” I reply. I have a meeting with Senator Stackhouse’s CoS. Stackhouse is all over this bill. Thank God the man didn’t filibuster again. When I’m his age, I hope I have that kind of will. 

“Oh great.” he says, opening the door. “I’m going to the Pentagon. We can share a cab.” 

“Um, great!” I give him my fake smile. The Pentagon’s in Arlington, he doesn’t really need to divert via Capitol Hill. Just as the cab is pulling away from the White House, I sigh and look through the lobby doors. Amy Gardner’s standing there. 

Fantastic. 

**************************************

~JOSH’S POV~ 

Why, why, why? What on earth could I have possibly have done to deserve this? Why was I bequeathed with the incredibly bad judgement of dating Amy? And thus, sentenced to a life of torture. 

I blame Donna for this. I blame Donna for not using her mystical powers of whatever from high atop Toby’s thing to get me to not go out with Amy in the first place. She did try. I got the definite vibe that she didn’t like Amy, but I blame her for not making a big deal out of it. 

Yes, I realize that I’m being ridiculous about that. Why do you think I haven’t voiced that opinion out loud to Donna? 

Amy’s been rambling about child healthcare statistics, like I’m some sort of... I don’t know, uninformed man. She should be getting to autism any minute now. 

“And they’re even worse when you look at autism.” she says, right on cue. Like I don’t know where she’s going with this? She led the First Lady’s office right to it, and now she’s trying to sneak the issue back over here. Donna and Helen are gaining a lot of support and momentum and the bill isn’t even finished being drafted, never mind it hasn’t been introduced yet. 

“This is the First Lady’s thing. What are you doing here talking to me about it?” I shoot back. 

“Oh, hey.” Amy says, as if it’s an afterthought. “Do you know when Donna gets back? I’ll take all this to her then.” 

“I’m not Donna’s keeper.” I reply. Except I do know her schedule and she wasn’t scheduled to be out of the building today. 

“Since when?” she scoffs. 

“I can’t help you there.” I reply. “Donna doesn’t clear the nuances of her schedule through me. I have no idea how long it’s going to take her to do whatever it is she’s doing.” I suppose something came up. I wonder if she tried to tell me. Taking what little attention I was giving Amy away and turning to my email, I pull up my Inbox. Right there is an email from Donna telling me she was having lunch at Stackhouse’s office. 

Amy arches a brow at me. Yeah, I know that look. I’ve just been maneuvered right to where she wanted me. “She’s out with Jack Reese.” she says, as if finishing my sentence. And God dammit, that feeling of anxiety comes back. What the hell is she talking about? I have an email here that says, “Josh going to Stackhouse’s office for lunch to meet with Susan.” That’s Stackhouse’s Chief of Staff. 

“What?” I can’t help it. The strategist in me says not to rise to the bait, but it’s beat back by the crazed-with-jealousy-Josh that ALWAYS wins over the rational me. 

“She got in a cab with Commander Reese a little while ago.” Amy shrugged. “I figure if she’s leaving the building with her ex-boyfriend, surely, you’d know about it.” 

No. I refuse to let Amy get the better of me. This is her jealousy; this is her being pissed off that I’m not interested in her anymore, and this is her trying to punish Donna for always having more of my attention. She’s trying to cause problems. 

“What are you expecting me to do, Amy?” I ask carefully. “Do you want me to fly into a jealous rage? Maybe call Donna on her cell and demand she return to the White House immediately? Oh hey, I know, why don’t I go get some of the Joint Chiefs to string Reese up on a yard arm. That used to be an old Navy punishment, right?” 

“Well, I’m sorry, J. I thought you’d give a shit that your girlfriend is running around with her ex-boyfriend behind your back. I didn’t realize you guys had that loose of a relationship.” 

“It’s not behind my back.” 

“You didn’t know about it.” 

“She left with him in a cab from the White House, where there’s an insane amount of surveillance. There was seven cameras pointed on her when she walked out the door, Amy, how is that sneaking around?” 

“Listen --” 

“Josh.” Carol buzzes in. “Donna’s on one.” 

I looked pointedly up at Amy, she opts not to leave. 

“Hey.” I say after I punch the blinking extension. 

“Don’t wig out.” she says immediately. Keep your cool, Josh, Amy’s standing right there. She’s practically foaming at the mouth. 

“Why would I freak out?” 

“Because this is the kind of thing that sends you to the ceiling.” 

“Don’t be dramatic, what’s going on?” I reply, like I don’t know. 

“I was on my way to the Hill; Jack was on his way to the Pentagon, before I could say no, he hopped in my cab.” She hurries out. 

“You don’t have to pass the Hill to get to the Pentagon.” I say. 

“Yeah, I know. I don’t know what all that was about. But I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else.” Too late. But she tried. 

“Meaning who?” I smile. 

“Amy was standing in the doorway.” she says in her indignant voice. “I’m sure she’ll be looking for the first chance to make it look like I was sneaking around.” 

“Well, I don’t think that.” I say. “Hold on a sec, baby.” I say and move the phone away from my mouth, but don’t bother to cover the handset. “We’re done.” I dismiss Amy. 

“I had more to talk to you about.” she says, crossing her legs in her chair. 

“Well, she didn’t waste any time.” Donna grumbles in my ear while she waits and listens. 

“No, you didn’t.” I counter Amy. “And even if you did, it wouldn’t matter. I’ve got the Transportation Secretary in a few minutes anyway.” 

“The agenda’s important, too, Josh.” she says standing up. When can I fire her? 

“Yes, it is. But that wasn’t what you were here for.” I say, and Donna chuckles in my ear. Amy turns on her heel and practically stomps out of my office, slamming the door behind her. 

“Don’t say it.” Donna says immediately. 

“Say what?” 

“That I should have worked some witchly powers you think I have to have made you not go out with her.” How does she DO that? Seriously, she’s not even in the room! 

“When I told you I was going to meet her that second time, if you showed me your breasts, I bet a hundred bucks, I wouldn’t have gone.” I smirk. 

“Right there in the bullpen?” she shoots back. 

“You remember where we were?” 

“You were telling me you were dating a woman that wasn’t me. Of course, I remember where I was.” 

I love when she says things like that. I love hearing I wasn’t actually out there all alone, and I love when her fur gets ruffled. She’s cute when she’s jealous. 

“Anyway, I got a thing.” she says. 

“Kay.” 

“Now that your ex-witch is gone...” 

“Now, now, do I say things about your ex-gomers?” 

“Are you kidding me?” 

Oops. 

“Right.” I say. 

“If I don’t see you when I get back --” she starts. 

“Come see me when you get back.” I cut off. 

“What if you’re doing something?” 

“Interrupt me.” 

“What if you’re uninterruptible?” 

“Donna...” I say with warning. 

“Kay.” she says. 

“Good luck with Susan.” 

She pauses for a minute and I can almost hear her smile. “Thanks.” 

TBC


	28. Learning to Navigate

~JOSH’S POV~ 

Donna’s having a thing right now. I’m not really sure what’s going on, but she’s packing for Camp David and her hands are shaking. I don’t think she’s realized that I’ve noticed, but I’ve been laying on her bed watching her. Outwardly, she seems pretty composed, but every now and then, she glances down at her hands. The President and I are going up tomorrow, and the President is dragging the rest of the senior staff. 

I haven’t been to Camp David since the peace talks with President Bartlet. Donna’s never been there. She’s been trying to cover the fact that she’s nervous by listing all the stuff she’s going to make me do in our downtime. I’m going jogging....Yay...Actually, it’s fine. I’ll do anything to keep her comfortable there. 

Working weekends at Camp David are usually pretty relaxed. There’s a loose schedule and a lot of free time. It’s nice because you actually get stuff done. No one else from other departments can interrupt you and change the entire course of your day. And what’s nice is, Amy’s not going. Amy was under the impression I think that the Legislative Director is lead on the agenda. Don’t know why she thought that. She is monstrously pissed that she’s not invited, especially when Sam told her that one of the items on the agenda for the weekend was the legislative agenda. She came stomping to my office and Carol blocked her. I’m not being immature about it. She consistently tries to circumvent the process and go right to the top. This was something I had a hard time getting through to her when she worked for Abbey Bartlet, too. She just came right to me with everything, then got pissed when she was redirected. 

I’ve heard rumors though. The National Foundation for Women Legislators is looking for a new Director of Public Policy. Amy’s been meeting with the President over there. I don’t know why she thought it wouldn’t come back to me. For crying out loud, my girlfriend is the First Lady’s Chief of Staff and the NFWL is all over the First Lady’s call sheet. Maybe she wants it to get back to me, I don’t know. I gave up trying to figure out her head games long ago. If she thinks I’m going to beg her to stay, she’s got another thing coming. I’m not the one who put her in that job. 

Donna takes a deep breath and pauses in her packing. 

“Are you all right?” I ask, for what is probably the fifth or sixth time this evening. 

“Yes, Josh.” She automatically replies. 

“You don’t seem like it.” I reply. She looks at me pointedly, but says nothing. If she doesn’t want to talk about it right now, I can wait. This’ll come out. I just hope it doesn’t come out in front of everybody. 

“Come here.” I say gesturing to her with my hand. She slides right down onto the bed with me and into my arms, taking a deep breath once she’s settled. All right, my ass. 

“I’m going to miss you.” she says softly. I’m all gooey now. 

Not that kind of gooey. Get your mind out of the gutter. 

I know I should know by now that she loves me and I should have confidence in her feelings for me, but when you wait eight freaking years to hear this stuff, it makes you all gooey inside when you do. 

“It’s just for tonight.” I reply, but I’ll miss her like crazy, too. Hell, I miss her when she’s only on the other side of the building from me. But this earns me a pout and I roll us to our sides, cursing the fact that we have to leave in a few minutes to get her to the White House and I can’t get good bye sex. Well, I mean, I got it last night...twice...but still. I’m like an addict when it comes to having sex with Donna. 

“You were supposed to say you were going to miss me, too.” 

“I am going to miss you.” I assure. “I imagine that I’m going to be quite unpleasant to be around between today and tomorrow when we get up there.” 

She smiles and brings her hand up to my face. It’s not shaking right now. “Thank you.” she says and kisses me lightly. 

“For?” 

“You. Just being you.” she smiles and gets back up to resume her packing. 

I roll back over and look at her. “That’s not something I thought I’d ever hear. It’s not even my birthday.” 

“Don’t ruin a perfectly nice moment by being you.” she shoots back. 

Wait a second. I don’t get how this works. Two seconds ago, she’s thanking me for being me and now, I’m not allowed to BE me? How is that possible? 

“Wait a minute.” I say about to put a voice to that very thought. 

“Don’t even bother to try, Josh.” she advises. 

“All right.” I sigh. I know when to pick my battles. 

The time finally comes when we can no longer avoid the inevitable. I drag myself off her bed and glance around her room. We’re not here often, and she’s got a lot of stuff at my place, but I think I’m going to sleep here tonight. I think I want be surrounded by her stuff. I’m not kidding. I AM going to miss her like crazy tonight. I don’t mean on the sex front either, though that’ll suck, but just the essence of Donna and what she embodies to me, just the peace I have from being near her. 

You know something? We’re pretty co-dependent. That’s probably bad on some level, huh? 

Screw it. 

She zips up her suitcase, and I pick it up for her. This earns me a grateful smile. I’m always amused when she’s reminded that I can be a gentleman. Her hand starts to shake again, so I take it in mine and kiss her fingertips. 

24 hours. 24 hours and I’ll be there with her. 

******************************************

~DONNA’S POV~ 

Okay. I really didn’t think it was going to be this difficult. I’ve been shaky and on edge since I got to this freaking place. 

God! It’s just Camp David! 

I had a nightmare last night. It was a nasty one, too. Unfortunately, it happened pretty early on in the night, and I couldn’t get back to sleep. So, now, I’m operating on, like three hours of sleep. Josh is going to be here any minute, and he’s sure to notice. He’s going to demand to know what’s going on, and what am I going to say? Camp David freaks me out, but I don’t know why? Yeah, that’ll go over well. 

I’m pacing back and forth in our cabin, trying to calm down my nerves and work off this nervous energy. 

I know I said cabin, but the “cabin” Josh gets, is enormous. It’s got three bedrooms in it, a full kitchen, an enormous sitting area, a pool table, don’t get me going on the entertainment system or the bathroom. I could probably quite comfortably live here. 

That is if Camp David didn’t freak me out so much. 

The front door slams open, and I yelp in surprise. There’s the man himself in the doorway. He drops his bags just inside the door and takes a moment to look at me. 

Shit. He notices. 

He grabs his suitcase and walks to the bedrooms, looking for evidence of the one I picked for us to sleep in. “Come on, get changed!” he calls from the room. 

“What?” I ask. “Changed for what?” 

“Running.” he calls back. Oh my God, he actually wants to go? Well, this is something else. I walk into the bedroom and stand in the doorway as he’s pulling out his running clothes. “And it’s freaking cold out there, so dress warm.” 

“You just got here. You want to go running now?” I’m still a little confused. Cut me some slack, I had three hours of sleep last night, and this is the man who will take any excuse he can to get out of working out. 

“Oh, wait.” he says quickly. He walks over and kisses me breathless. “I missed you.” Then he goes immediately back to getting changed. 

Still unsure of this sudden urge for exercise he’s got, but giving in, since I wanted to do this anyway and was going to make him go with me, I pull open the drawers to the dresser where I stored my running clothes and pull everything out. 

Five minutes later, we’re stretching out front of the cabin. It’s strange that the secret service isn’t around us. I guess because of all the security that IS here, they don’t need to shadow him like they normally do when he leaves the White House. 

Otto comes up with a file in his hand. 

“Hey, Josh.” he says looking inside it. 

“Go away now, Otto.” Josh replies. “I’m not required to see any of you until after lunch.” 

“Um...okay.” Otto replies. I think Otto is still unsure of how to handle Josh and Josh’s sometimes, well, abrupt attitude when he doesn’t want his attention taken away from something. Otto’s got a lot to learn. 

“Come on. I’ll give you a tour.” Josh says tugging my hand and taking off at a moderate pace. 

It’s cold out, but it feels great to me. I’ve felt like I’ve been suffocating since we got here yesterday. I couldn’t concentrate with Helen. Josh starts asking me about what we did yesterday and the bill, and I start idly filling him in. It’s funny, even though it’s work and he’s the Chief of Staff, it seems more like a how-was-your-day question. It’s comfortable. 

When that’s covered, he starts pointing out different buildings, and talking about the different places they did stuff when he was here times before; the basketball courts, the pool, the pavillion, where him and Toby used to hide from the President and throw a football back and forth to hash something out. It takes a couple of minutes before I start to realize that he’s now pointing out different places they worked on the peace talks at and who was where. He stops on a bridge, seemingly to catch his breath. 

“This is where you get the best cell service.” he explains and pauses. “This is where I’d come to call you.” 

I start getting that feeling in my stomach again. “It’s a trigger, Donna.” he says softly and I look at him in question. “Camp David.” he continues. “It’s a trigger for you. I’m not a hundred percent sure why, but probably because I left your side in Germany and called you so much from here right after it all happened.” 

“I liked that you called.” I say quickly. I lived for his phone calls over there. Colin actually left shortly after he did, and I discovered that I missed Josh. I wanted him with me. I couldn’t believe he had come to me and stayed so long. He blew off the President of the United States for crying out loud. 

“Yeah?” he smiles slowly and I nod. He was so frustrated then. I could hear it in his voice. In fact, I couldn’t hear anything BUT frustration in his voice. 

I’m thinking about what he said now, about Camp David being a trigger. It’s making some sense to me. After Josh met with Stanley Keyworth, I did extensive research on post traumatic stress disorder. In fact, I threw myself into the research when Josh wasn’t around. I wanted to know everything I possibly could about it; what were all the signs; how bad it could get; whether or not it needed medication or could be managed on its own; things that could set different episodes off. I had even talked extensively to Stanley. 

This possibility never even occurred to me. It’s so mild. But I also know this is something that Josh was paranoid about. And rightfully so. I can say that now, but back then, I felt like I was being smothered. 

“It meant a lot to me. Hearing your voice...” I don’t really know how to explain it to him. I’d hear his voice through the phone and it would fall over me like a comfort blanket. 

He smiles and walks around a bit, looking around him, lost in thought. Lost in a time that both of us would rather forget, I’m sure. “President Bartlet brokered peace in the Middle East here. Can you believe it? Peace between Israel and Palestine?” He shakes his head a bit and turns to face me. He looks at me dead on. “It took me a long time to accept it, Donna, but something amazing came out of that.” And I know immediately he means the accident. 

It’s taken me a long time to accept it, too, but he’s right. 

TBC


	29. Learning to Navigate

~DONNA’S POV~ 

“I have to talk to you.” Carol announces quickly. She attaches herself to my arm and tugs me none to gently through the lobby and towards the East Wing. 

“Dear God, what has he done?” I demand as she’s dragging me down the corridor to the East Wing. 

“Oh, it’s not him.” she assures. “For once.” 

“What then?” 

“Hold on.” she says cryptically. She’s drags me through the East Wing offices, past my rather intrigued staff, and into my office. My assistant is in there, who Carol immediately ushers out of my office and closes the door. 

“Carol!” I laugh. “What’s with the show? What’s going on?” 

“Okay.” she says. “You know I don’t like to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong.” I nod, but inside my head, I’m totally rolling my eyes. Carol’s fallen into Margaret’s role beautifully. I mean, she’s discreet when she’s supposed to be. I’m totally confident that she wouldn’t gossip about me and Josh, she loves working for the CoS, but anyone else is pretty much fair game. However, nothing is juicy enough to warrant this show from her, so my interest here is quite peaked. 

“Donna.” the First Lady says entering my office from her connecting door. 

“Ma’am!” Carol yelps. 

“Good morning, ma’am.” I smile. 

“Good morning.” she replies. “Good morning, Carol. How are you this morning?” 

“Oh, really good, ma’am.” Carol nods. 

“It’s nice to see you on our side of the building.” Helen smiles. “Is there a problem?” 

“Um...not really, ma’am.” Carol says. Well, this is interesting. 

“Not really?” Helen asks. Great, now Helen’s interest is peaked. Carol doesn’t know Helen well. I hope whatever Carol has to tell me isn’t embarrassing because there’s no way Carol’s getting out of here without telling both me and Helen what it is. 

“Well, I mean...” Carol says scrunching up her face. 

“Carol.” I sigh. “Just tell us.” 

“Um...” Carol says glancing at the First Lady. 

“Oh, come on.” Helen says sitting in one of the visitor chairs and gesturing for the two of us to sit, too. Carol takes the other chair and I sit behind my desk. “Only Donna ever gossips with me, and even then I know I don’t hear everything. I’m one of the girls, too.” She’s practically whining over there, so I give Carol a pointed look and pray for the best. 

“Well, Josh got a rather interesting call this morning.” Carol hedges. Shit, I hope it’s not personal. It must not be if Carol hasn’t made up an excuse. 

“From?” I ask. 

“Teresa Flannigan.” Carol says. 

“Teresa Flannigan?” I repeat and Helen looks a little lost. “She’s the President of the National Federation of Women Legislators.” 

“And she’s calling Josh?” Helen asks. “Isn’t that more of something for Sam’s desk?” Helen’s doing pretty good learning how the West Wing operates. I’ve been trying to teach her that in order for us to conquer them on what we want, she needs to be completely knowledgeable in how they work and why. She’s caught on quickly. Thankfully, there haven’t been any more spur of the moment trips anywhere since Portland. 

“Well...yeah, I guess.” Carol says. “But I think she wanted to talk to Josh directly because she was really calling about Amy.” 

“Amy?” Now it’s Helen’s turn to scrunch up her face. She hates Amy. She hasn’t admitted to actually hating her, but I’ve never heard her say anything remotely nice about her. Amy really got off on the wrong foot with Helen and then just stayed there. 

“Well, it seems that Amy is leaving us.” Carol adds a touch of mock dismay here. “She’s going to be the new Director of Public Policy over there.” 

“Josh hasn’t said a word about that.” I say trying to hide my utter shock. Amy’s leaving the White House for the NFWL? If she wants to affect change, doesn’t she think she’s better off doing it from, you know, inside these walls? 

“Josh didn’t know.” Carol confirms. 

“Was she calling for a reference?” Helen asks. “I mean, can you just imagine that!?” 

“No, no she wasn’t calling for a reference.” Carol dodges. I’m starting to get a bad feeling here. I’m not sure what’s got me irked, but Carol’s about to tell me something I’m not going to like. “It seems Teresa was a little concerned. Amy was discussing the Stackhouse bill. She talked about it as if it was she that was spearheading it. Teresa was concerned because she knew it was a hot issue with Mrs. Santos and didn’t want to burn any bridges with the new administration.” 

I hazard a glance over at Helen. She’s seething. Amy was going to jump ship and jump ship with our highly publicized bill. A bill, by the way, that’s garnering a lot of bi-partisan support. It hasn’t even been introduced yet. 

“Megan!” Helen bellows for my assistant. Carol and I raise our eyebrows at each other and my assistant, who looks mightily confused, I must say, comes into the office. 

“Um, yes ma’am?” she asks Helen. 

“I would like you to get Teresa Flannigan at the NFWL on the phone for me.” Helen requests sweetly. 

Oh shit. 

“Ma’am?” Megan asks again, she glances at me for confirmation. 

“You heard me.” Helen replies. 

Megan tosses a glance at me and then leaves the office. 

“Mrs. Santos,” I begin. Carol looks astonished. “I’m not so sure this is the best course of action. I’m sure Josh handled this.” 

“I’m equally as sure that Josh didn’t handle it in a manner that I’d find acceptable.” Helen assures. “Josh has to use a certain amount of finesse, and keep in mind certain politics. I do not.” 

“That’s not exactly true.” I argue. “We do need to make sure we don’t do anything that’s going to make the administration look bad.” 

“Oh, I won’t.” she says, but I’m not so sure. 

Megan pokes her head back in. “Ms. Flannigan on two.” 

Helen picks up my phone and punches the extension. “Teresa, Helen Santos here.” she greets with so much sweetness, I half expect to see honey start leaking out of her ears. “We haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yet, so I just wanted to call and introduce myself and let you know how excited I am and how much I’m looking forward to working with your organization on Senator Stackhouse’s upcoming bill. Oh yes, I agree. It is an important bill. Amy Gardner? No. She’s not spearheading this at all. That bill is headed up exclusively by my office.” Helen pauses. She said that in such an off-handed manner, as if it wasn’t the sole reason for the phone call. Damn, but she’s getting good at this stuff. “No, I’m sorry. You must have been misinformed. She does work on a lot of issues here, but she just can’t get us the exposure we would need on something like this, and well, these are issues near and dear to my heart. This isn’t something that she’s got any pull on. Amy...well, just between us girls, Amy hasn’t exactly met my expectations. I thought when someone comes with a resume like that, they’d actually be interested in, you know, advancing the plight of women and issues that are important to women, like, their children, but that doesn’t seem to be the case with her. Oh, she interviewed at your organization? Oh, I didn’t know that. Well, don’t I feel foolish now talking about her like that. Oh no, you’re too kind. I’m terribly embarrassed. Regardless, I do look forward to working with you. In fact, why don’t I have my assistant set up lunch for us this week. Have you ever seen the Residence here? Great. I look forward to it. Bye bye, Teresa.” 

Helen hangs up the phone and looks quite pleased with herself. Carol looks amazed. I do think that was a rather impressive performance myself. I don’t know why Lou thinks she can’t spin. 

*************************************

~JOSH’S POV~ 

“Well, well, well.” I greet Donna as she comes into my office. I see Carol slink over and close my door. I’ve already dealt with her. I saunter over to where Donna is near the door to the corridor and push it shut over her shoulder, effectively blocking her escape route. 

“Um, Megan says you wanted to see me?” she schools an innocent expression on her face. 

I note that she’s not really bringing out the misdirection here. I’ve had two lengthy conversations with Teresa Flannigan today. The President about burst an artery when he found out not only what Amy did, and let me tell you how hard it was to resist the urge to say I told you so, but then we find out about Helen’s little chat. I have to admit, Helen’s got pluck. That was a pretty gutsy move there, calling the President of the NFWL up and letting it slip she’s got no faith in her husband’s Legislative Director...or former Legislative Director. 

“Yes.” I say. 

“Long day?” she asks. I can hear the concern over my well-being creeping into her voice. I try not to smile, and force myself to keep a serious expression. 

“I was considering offering you job over here. Seems we’re looking for a new Director of Legislative Affairs.” 

“She quit?” Donna gasps. 

“Quit? Oh no. The President fired her after she tried to play dirty pool with his wife.” 

Donna’s eyes go wide. She seems truly surprised by that. 

“Ouch.” Donna says. 

“Yes.” I agree. Getting fired twice by the White House? Not good on a resume; and not something that’s soon forgotten. “Did you try to stop her from making the phone call?” 

“Yes.” 

“How hard?” 

“Josh.” she sighs. I know, I know. She’s not going to send her boss up the river, even to me. Lucky for Donna, I’m in virtually the same boat I am dealing with a new President, a President who’s still trying to adjust to the power he was handed. I’m not talking military power. That, thank God, he’s got a handle on; I’m talking about his firing Amy. It’s not the first time he’s had a knee jerk reaction like that. 

“She wasn’t going to work out.” Donna says softly. 

“That doesn’t make it okay.” I reply. “It makes it look like we don’t have faith in our staff.” 

“Not to anyone that knows her!” 

“Donna.” I warn. I walk away from her and drop down onto the couch, letting my head fall onto the cushions, and look up at the ceiling. I’m not interested right now in getting into another round of all the reasons why Donna and Amy can’t stand each other. Actually, there’s only one reason, yours truly. 

She sits down next to me. She’s practically right on top of me, her leg brushing mine. 

“I’m sorry.” she says, and begins running her fingers through my hair. It’s soothing. I close my eyes. I think Donna’s discovered a new form of misdirection with me; wish she came up with this one about seven years ago. 

“For what, exactly?” I ask. 

“For the headache you’re going to get from this.” 

“But not for the phone call?” 

“I didn’t make the phone call, and I doubt you’ll get an apology from Helen.” Donna replies. “She’s going to make mistakes, Josh, she’s not a politician. She doesn’t want to be a politician.” 

“How is she going to be married to the President of the United States for the next four years and not be a politician?” I ask. 

“By being the First Lady.” Donna says matter of factly. I take a moment to let her words sink in. Donna and Helen are changing the image of the First Lady. Helen’s numbers are pretty high, which is great for a First Lady finding her sea legs and sabotaging people’s careers. 

I close my eyes, giving in to Donna’s relaxation technique. How many times did I envision her doing something like this after I’ve had a day like this? For years, I just wished I could break the tension of a rough day with her. When things were at their worse, with Carrick and the shut down, I just wanted to grab her, push her up against my office door, and make everything go away. I could just lose myself in her in mindless sex. It wouldn’t mean anything; it’d just be sex, just a way to break all the tension that was in my mind and body at the time. 

But I couldn’t do that with her because it wouldn’t be mindless and it would mean something to her...and to me. I couldn’t take from her the one thing I needed the most. 

And I can’t do that now either. I can’t ever use her that way, and since I’ll never have sex with a woman that’s not her again, I’m not sure how to get rid of that feeling, but this is a nice beginning she’s got. A light touch from her has the power to soothe me, calm me down, and wash away the hardships of day. It always has. Even if it was just a gentle touch on my shoulder to wake me up when I’d fallen asleep at my desk. 

I could never figure that out. I could never figure out how her touch could heal me the way it does, but I know now. I couldn’t figure it out then because I thought with my head. Each time Donna touches me, it comes from deep within her, from a place only I get to see, a place in Donna that’s all mine. And so it’s that place I visit now, and that place where I can allow myself to get lost. 

TBC


	30. Learning to Navigate

~JOSH’S POV~ 

I’m exhausted. I’ve been Donna’s pack mule all day, but that’s okay. Because it means now she and I are in our very own house. She and I...big commitment made here today. 

I watch her put the wineglasses on the cardboard box tower between us in the living room and carefully pour the wine in each glass. The candlelight is illuminating the room and making her glow. There’s furniture in here, but we’ve opted to set up on the floor. She’s spread a blanket out and there’s candles all over the place. Between the open flames, the cardboard boxes, hardwood floors, and Chinese take out containers, we’re sitting in the middle of a tinder box. 

She’s got a bottle of red and a bottle of white. Yes, I prefer red, but I’ll drink white; it’s what she likes. But I like that she went through the trouble to get me something I liked. 

My plan is to return that favor tonight. 

I’m sitting on the floor, leaning back on my hands, one leg propped up and one bent. She eases down to the floor with both glasses and curls right in to the space between my legs waiting for her. She and I fit together in hundreds of ways, we’re like a Jenga puzzle. 

She turns her head up to me, and before she can say anything, I kiss her. Her hand comes up to my cheek and she opens her mouth instantly for me. Donna’s got many kisses and this one is in my top three favorites. It’s the Josh-you’re-going-to-get-lucky-kiss, but she has no idea how lucky I’m about to be. 

She turns into me now and gently pushes my shoulders and we ease back onto the floor. This is a freaking damn hard floor, let me tell you. Donna climbs above me, and my hands move to her hair. Can you believe we’ve only been doing this physical thing for five months? Well, we’ve always been physical, but we’ve never been THIS physical. 

She works my arms out of the flannel shirt I was wearing and moves to pull my t-shirt out of my jeans. 

“Whoa, slow up, Donna.” I say and gently push us up. She looks at me in confusion. 

“Slow up?” she repeats. “Are you feeling okay?” She’s genuinely concerned and she gently presses the back side of her hand to my cheek. 

“Yeah.” I say with a small smile. “I just...” 

“You don’t want to christen the new house?” she frowns, with, of course, a pout. 

“Oh, I do.” I assure. “Trust you me, we’ll be christening all over this house.” 

“I don’t understand.” She sits back Indian style and she’s eyeing me now suspiciously. 

“I know. Hold on.” I get up and cross the living room to the front door. She stands up and takes a couple of steps towards the foyer watching me in interest. I open the door and Tucker’s standing there. “Tuck, I need the thing.” I say, holding out my hand. Tucker reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the small ring box. 

Yeah, I gave the ring to the secret service to hold. One, Donna would find it. She was the one doing all the packing; and two, I didn’t want to lose it or forget it. I only gave it to him last night. I had it in my office before that. 

“What did he give you?” she asks stepping closer to me. 

“This.” I say popping open the box. 

She gasps. One hand comes flying to her stomach and the other comes up to her mouth. Tears spring up in her eyes and she starts fanning her face. 

“Oh, Josh.” she cries. 

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.” I smile. 

“Joshua Lyman, if the words AREN’T, Donna, will you marry me, I swear to God, I will beat you within an inch of your life!” 

I pull the ring out of the box and toss the box aside. I close the distance between us and pick up her hand, slowly sliding the ring on her finger. She’s hysterical. I don’t even think I need to ask at this point, but for the bodily harm threat looming out there. 

“Will you complete my life, Donna? Will you marry me?” 

She sobs, nods, and throws her arms around my neck. I’m not ashamed to confess to you that there’s a few tears running down my cheeks, too. I adjust my arms around her and hold her tightly. 

This was the promise I made to myself on election night. They called the election for Santos and after a moment of complete deflation on my part, I turned around, and she was there. And as we were in each other’s arms, I promised myself that I would never let her go. I had no idea what was happening, but I had her back, and I wasn’t letting her go. Those who love much, lose much and I had lost a lot that night, but I had also won and loved. 

She pulls back and kisses me. It’s the same raw passion she kissed me with on the night before the election. There’s some ravishment about to come my way. 

I’m okay with that. 

She’s raining kisses down my neck and just as I tilt my head, I see the windows. Yeah, there’s no curtains on these. 

“Donna,” I say as she starts pulling at my clothes. 

“No talking, Josh.” 

Well, that’s hot. 

“We’re right in front of the window, Donna, there’s no curtains.” I say huskily. 

“No one can see in.” she shakes her head and throws a glance at the windows in question. The candles aren’t that bright. 

“I don’t want to find out we were wrong via Steven Colbert.” I say. She sighs, smiles, and pulls me up the stairs to our new room, where our new bed is. I KNOW there’s blinds on those windows because the secret service took care of that. 

Once we’re at the top of the stairs, we kiss our way down the hall, bumping into the wall and railing because we’re not accustomed to the house yet. Donna fumbles for the light switch as I kiss her across the threshold. When she flips the switch, there’s one small lamp on in the corner. She has a lighting design for the room that she hasn’t set up yet. I didn’t even know that bedrooms needed lighting designs, I mean, don’t lamps work? But I don’t ask these questions. I could care less how the room’s lit up, just so long as there’s light when I need it. So, if she wants a design, so be it. 

The small lamp in the corner casts a very small glow. There’s candles along the mantle in front of a mirror that hasn’t been hung yet and she breaks away from me long enough to light them. She moves to light a few more that are strewn around the room. 

“Did you have a plan to seduce me tonight?” I ask, tilting my head. The bed’s made and it’s perfect. 

She shrugs and slowly walks towards me. “Is there ever a time when you’re NOT seduceable, Joshua?” 

Damn, she’s using that husky voice again; the handsome and powerful voice that haunted me for years. 

“Not when it’s you.” I say back. She slides her palms up my chest and links them behind my neck and mine go around her waist. She runs her fingers lightly through my hair and occasionally behind my ears, which she knows makes me nuts. 

“I love you, Josh.” she whispers. 

“Thank you.” I whisper back. 

“You’re not going to say, I love you back?” she grins. 

“I just asked you to marry me; you didn’t think it was because I love you?” I shoot back. 

“Well, for crying out loud, Josh, a girl likes to hear that after she’s just been proposed to. It’s reassuring.” 

“Reassuring? I asked you to marry me. How much more reassurance do you need?” 

The bickering goes on for a little while because really, that’s where we live. But eventually, we end up in bed. And as she’s naked and curled up against me as she sleeps, I can’t help but think that finally, I’m that guy. I’m that guy that you see out on the mall or at the restaurant that you envy because he’s got the beautiful wife that adores him. I’m that guy that’s got the love of an amazing woman, a woman I’ve waited eight years for, a woman I’ve waited my whole life for, really. 

I push her hair out of her face and press a light kiss to her forehead, she smiles in response, which in turn, makes me smile. Five months together like this, and I’m still amazed to see her naked in my bed, to see her look at me with a gaze reserved for a lover. When she smiles at me, I feel as powerful as I actually am. I feel like there’s still good in the world and I will accomplish something in this job. 

I turn towards her and she rolls onto her back to take me in her embrace. When I’m in Donna’s arms, I know I’m protected, I know I’m loved, and I know that I am home. 

THE END - Epilogue to follow in chapter 31


	31. Learning to Navigate

~Epilogue~ 

Dedication of the Josiah Bartlet Library. 

~JOSH’S POV~ 

Shit! I meant to be there by now! 

I run up the stairs and down the corridor. It’s not like I don’t have a good excuse. I AM the Chief of Staff now, but I did want to be there already. I did want to be there with everybody else. 

President and Dr. Bartlet are there already, encircled by CJ, Danny, Charlie, Kate, Will, and TOBY? Holy shit! I can’t believe President Bartlet invited Toby! Not that I’m not glad to see him, but I’m surprised the President allowed him to be here, given the way he left. 

All heads turn to me. 

“Sir, the President’s here.” I say. 

“Ah, Josh.” he says quietly. He walks over and hugs me. Everyone else got a handshake; I get a hug. I think this hug might really be for Leo. 

“Sir.” I say with a smile when he lets me go. “You’re looking well.” 

He shrugs and steps back, so I can greet Abbey. 

“Joshua, you don’t look near as tired as I expected you to.” she smiles. 

“My wife takes care of me.” I smile. 

“And where is she?” the President asks looking over my shoulder. 

“She should just be arriving with the President, First Lady and Sam.” I say turning back to the corridor I just arrived from. 

We all make our way down the corridor and out to the front steps to greet the motorcade. President Santos steps out first, followed by the First Lady. Then something rather amusing happens, the President turns around and offers his hand down. My wife’s delicate hand pops into view and the President and First Lady heave her out of the limo. I see that she’s being propelled from behind by Sam. It’s not easy for her to get around these days. She’s due to deliver our first baby, like, any minute now. 

President Bartlet chuckles next to me. I walk down a few steps to bring Donna the rest of the way as the two Presidents greet each other. 

“You all right?” I ask her. 

“Yes, Joshua.” she sighs and rolls her eyes. 

President and Dr. Bartlet both hug and kiss her in greeting. 

“Donnatella, you’re glowing.” President Bartlet smiles. 

“Thank you, sir.” she blushes. 

“How do you feel, Donna, are you getting enough rest?” Abbey asks. 

“Yes, ma’am. Josh is militant about that.” 

All eyes turn in surprise to me. “Hey!” I protest. “I’m just trying to be a good husband!” 

“Oh, a good husband?” Donna asks with raised eyebrows. Shit! Now, what did Ido. “Recognize this?” Oh shit. She’s holding up my wedding band. NOW where did I leave it? 

“Where’d you find that?” I squeak. 

“In the bananas.” 

“Ah. Well, now you have proof that I’m eating healthy.” I say as I slide it back onto my finger. I wince as Abbey smacks me in the head. 

“What does she have to do, Joshua, glue it to your finger?” Abbey demands. 

“I forget the ring; it’s not like I forget I’m married.” I defend. 

“I remember when Donna first hired herself as your assistant. You forgot her all the time.” Sam jumps in. 

“That 14 years ago!” I yelp. A silence falls among us and we exchange looks. 

That was 14 years ago. I cannot believe what this group of people has been through in the last 14 years. 

“Well, we shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer.” President Bartlet says. He gestures for President Santos to walk with him, and Abbey and Helen pair off and follow. The rest of us stand behind to greet each other. Donna and CJ’s greeting is still a little stilted. I guess Donna’s never going to be completely okay with whatever happened there. 

“Congressman.” I greet Will. “How’s Oregon?” 

“Wet. And don’t think I’m not going to use this time to shamelessly hound you Sam about my proposal to name the Columbia River Gorge a national park.” Will says. 

“It’s a gorge.” Sam replies as they head down the hall and argue. CJ and Danny and Kate and Charlie follow, leaving Donna, Toby, and I. 

“Josh.” Toby says quietly. 

“Toby.” I nod. 

“You’re doing you know with the thing.” he says. Strangely, I can still translate Toby’s compliment. He’d never come right out and tell me that I’m doing a good job as Chief of Staff because that would entail, you know, acknowledging that I was right to leave in the first place. Forget the fact that I won’t be remembered as leaving in a scandal. 

“Thanks.” I reply, wrapping my arm around Donna. 

“You look beautiful, Donna.” He says kissing her cheek. 

“Thank you. I look like a whale.” 

“You’re supposed to.” he replies. “You’re nine months pregnant.” She smiles and we begin to follow the presidential party. What the hell? He’s not going to get in trouble for that? I’d be killed! 

“So, what are your plans for after re-election? Santos will sail through.” he notes. 

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I think I might be a father for a while.” 

“Who’s going to be Chief of Staff?” he asks. 

“Sam.” 

“Are you kidding me? You’re leaving the country in Sam’s hands? He lit the White House on fire!” 

“Well, he had some assistance in that.” I reply. 

“I wouldn’t brag about it.” 

“I want my kid to know me, Toby. I don’t want them to wonder who that guy is that stumbles in after he’s gone to bed and he occasionally sees kissing mommy.” 

Toby smiles slowly at me. “Mazel Tov, Joshua.” he says. “You’ve finally learned how to navigate your way successfully through life. You’ve finally found balance.” 

He walks ahead of us into the reception hall, and Donna takes my hand as we step together through the door. 

~THE END~


End file.
